


Introductions

by doodly_squat



Series: Where do I belong? [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2018-12-08 14:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 57,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11648547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doodly_squat/pseuds/doodly_squat
Summary: Prompto is determined to be Noctis' friend, but Ignis and Gladio aren't exactly welcoming the newcomer into the Prince's life with open arms. It's a good thing Prompto is armed with a chipper disposition and a heck of a lot of perseverance.





	1. In the Beginning

Doubt, sudden and unexpected, overshadowed Prompto's determination, and he slowed his stride. Prince Noctis hadn't seen him yet. He could still turn back, abort this attempt and try again another day.

Inwardly sighing, Prompto halted altogether, watching Noctis continue on down the hall.

Why was this still so hard?

After all his preparation, he hadn't considered this anxiety would still plague him. He'd lost weight, gotten in shape, started interacting with his classmates more so that he wasn't quite so socially stunted, but it still didn't feel like enough.

He nearly turned away, but then he heard the whispers of the other high schoolers in the hallway. They giggled and buzzed with excitement over the celebrity in their midst. So many eyes were fixed on the prince, but no one approached him.

Just like every other time Prompto had seen Noctis, the prince walked alone, his expression a mixture of weariness and boredom.

Resolve returning, Prompto quickly set himself into action. Noctis needed a friend, and if no one else was going to step forward, well then…

Sprinting up to the prince, Prompto gave him a swift slap on the back. Using his most chipper tone, he called out, "Hey there, Prince Noctis."

"Huh?" Noctis uttered with a wide-eyed look of surprise.

"My name's Prompto. It's nice to meet you!"

There was a moment of silence as the prince studied him.

Holding his grin in place, trying desperately not to fidget under that royal gaze, Prompto's mind began to race. He'd messed up–he was sure of it. Everything he said was wrong, and he should _not_ have slapped Noctis on the back. This was all a mistake. He shouldn't have…

"Don't I know you?" Noctis asked, his voice soft, friendly.

_Why yes. You've probably seen me lurking and watching you for over a year now as I tried to gain enough courage to start a conversation. Also, I used to be fat._

Nope. Prompto certainly wasn't going with that explanation. Was there any way to make it sound a lot less creepy and desperate? Probably not.

Unsure of how to respond, Prompto gave a tense laugh and started moving slowly down the hall in the direction Noctis had been heading. Without hesitation, the prince gave a low chuckle and followed.

Tension still filled Prompto though–until he felt that sharp, friendly slap on his own back. Looking over his shoulder, he found Noctis grinning back at him, and suddenly everything felt alright.

**************************************************************************************************

His first day of high school–Noctis had been dreading this day. He'd feigned sickness at first, much to Ignis' annoyance, but, with no real ailment, that ploy could only last so long.

School in general wasn't that bad. The lessons were easier than the ones Ignis set him through at home, and the physical education was a laugh compared to Gladio's training sessions.

School days did, however, hold a certain crushing boredom and loneliness. He'd never admit it, but Noctis found himself missing the company of both Ignis and Gladio when he was at school. Though they often frustrated him to no end, they still understood him. He could be himself around them. He was more than just Prince Noctis to them. He was a person.

To the general public though, that was not the case. Here, he was a symbol, a position, a being held to a different standard.

He'd known the transition to the high school would be difficult.

There were so many new faces, so many more people to openly stare at him as he made his way from class to class. He's learned, long ago, to ignore the gazes, but that didn't mean they didn't bother him still.

Eventually, a few would gain the courage to talk to him, but, predictably, they would ask about the Citadel or his lavish lifestyle. He would be as cordial as possible, listening and responding, but, at the first chance he got, he'd excuse himself. They never cared about meeting him. They only cared about meeting a prince.

Given enough time, if he let them get close to him, if he befriended them, they would start asking more and more of him. A few times, he'd let a classmate get close enough to be considered a friend. False though they were, Noctis had been starved for friendship. He let them enjoy the perks of his lifestyle, gain prestige for their family names, attend lavish functions, but, in the end, when he could no longer look past their intentions, their deceitful friendship only deepened his loneliness.

That flicker of hope at finding companionship was slowly dying. He was sure no one would see him as anything more than a symbol, than a prince.

_Until…_

The slap on the back and exuberant greeting had been a jolting surprise. Few dared talk with Noctis let alone touch him. At least the cheerful greeting following the contact put the prince at ease.

Noctis turned, finding a lanky blond boy with a beaming grin staring back at him.

"My name's Prompto. It's nice to meet you!" The boy exclaimed, his smile never faltering.

For a moment, the prince studied the newcomer carefully, his memories drifting back to the chubby youth who'd tried to befriend him over a year ago. It was hard to believe this was the same person, but Noctis was sure it was.

After that first encounter, the plump boy had obviously started avoiding Noctis. There were several times the prince had seen the boy slinking away after school, his shoulders hunched, his pudgy hands clutching his tiny camera close to his chest.

It had all been rather odd, and a tad interesting, but, with his busy schedule, Noctis hadn't given the boy much thought, until now.

"Don't I know you?" He asked, surprised to see the blond flinch ever so slightly at the question.

Prompto gave a nervous laugh and took a few strides forward, away from Noctis, but the pace was slow, inviting, and the prince fell in step beside him.

It was quite clear the blond didn't want to talk about their previous encounters, or the fact that he had made an incredible transformation from plump to lean. That was fine. Noctis could respect that wish, but he could see the tension still hanging around the other boy, and, for some reason, he felt the need to do something about it.

Before he realized what he was doing, Noctis reached out and gave Prompto a quick slap on the back. The blond turned and fixed his eyes on the Prince. Finding Noctis smiling back at him, Prompto's face lit up with the most magnificent, sincere smile.

As they continued down the hall, heading for their next classes, Prompto started to rattle off his class schedule, speckling the list with humorous commentary about each subject that he was going to be forced to endure. It seemed he was not a fan of math, or literature, or history. Truthfully, it sounded as if he wasn't really a fan of school in general.

They compared their classes and found they had several together. Though they had to separate for their next class, Prompto was quick to point out a place they could meet in the hall afterwards.

For Noctis, the day became a blur of teachers, textbooks, and Prompto.

In one of the classes they had together, Prompto and Noctis exchanged looks of dismay as the monotone history professor prattled on in a never ending lecture. The prince had to stifle his laughter as Prompto, on several occasions during the class, did an impression of the sour-faced man so bleakly and dully explaining the history of the Lucian Kingdom to them.

During their breaks, Prompto and Noctis animatedly discussed video games and comic books.

Somehow, Prompto got Noctis to start talking about fishing, and how he'd always wanted to travel the country, trying out all the different fishing holes.

Prompto, in turn, told Noctis about his photography and how there was something so thrilling about capturing the most rare, beautiful moments in life. Also, the guy had one heck of an obsession with Chocobos. He prattled on about Chocobos for most of their lunch period. The funny thing was that Noctis didn't find it boring at all. Yeah, it was odd, but Prompto's infectious exuberance and awkward child-like wonder made his ramblings rather enduring.

Talking with Prompto was so easy. No expectations were held over Noctis' head. He could bring up whatever came to him and the blond would wholeheartedly sink into the conversation. Also, Prompto didn't seem to be guarded with his words. He spoke so freely and animatedly. It was a refreshing change of pace for Noctis.

And suddenly, the day was over.

On the school's front steps, Prompto offered a quick goodbye, explaining that he had to hurry home, but promising he'd meet Noctis outside the school in the morning. Though Ignis had yet to pull up, Noctis tried to offer the blond a ride, but Prompto insisted the jog home would be good for him, and, with one last flash of a lopsided grin, he sprinted off.

A few minutes later, Iggy pulled up.

"How was your first day of high school?" Ignis asked as Noctis slid into the backseat.

"Fine," Noct replied as he buckled his seatbelt, but then, thinking the matter over further, he corrected himself. "It was really good."

Ignis used the rearview mirror to gaze back at Noct. Raising a brow, voice vibrating with a touch of doubt, he asked, "Really? I apologize, but you had so been dreading this day only just this morning. I'm surprised it went so well after your earlier trepidation."

"I made a friend," Noct answered quietly. He kept his gaze on the school as Ignis pulled the car away.

"I see." Ignis' tone was laced with worry and disapproval. "That was rather fast. I hate to be so blunt, but you do not typically make friends very easily."

Noctis couldn't argue with that. It was the truth, but suddenly, he felt something new, something strange stirring inside him. He'd made mistakes with other false friendships in the past, ones that ended up hurting him in the long run, and he knew Ignis and Gladio were rather protective of him now, but Prompto was different. Of course, it would take a lot of convincing for Ignis and Gladio to see that, and a small part of Noctis feared the two might scare his new friend away.

With this new worry settling over him, Noctis remained fairly silent for the rest of the ride to the Citadel.

***********************************************************************************************************

The silent ride would have been uncomfortable, if it had not been their accustomed way of transportation. Ignis had not yet mastered the art of getting the younger man to fully engage in conversation, and he had, perhaps, pushed the topic a little too far. Friendships were a sore subject with the young prince.

Still, it was not unreasonable for Ignis to be concerned. Past instances of companionship for Noctis had not ended well. One, unbeknownst to the prince, had ended in a kidnapping attempt. Attempt was the key word. If not for Gladio's vigilance, it would have been successful.

Ignis had wanted to present the full truth of the fraudulent friendship to Noctis, but King Regis asked that they spare his son that added heartache. After all, he already lost what he thought was a friend. That grief alone was enough.

Any classmate who started to get close with the prince after that incident was heavily vetted, scrutinized and, sometimes, put under surveillance.

The precautions, in Ignis' opinion, were well worth the prince's safety though. So, he found it incredible frustrating that the prince was currently not being forthcoming with the name of his new friend.

Ignis had tried to break the silence of their ride on three separate occasions. He'd directly inquired about this high school peer of Noctis', but the prince merely replied vaguely that the boy was 'nice' or that he was 'odd' or that he 'really like Chocobos.' There was no information of value.

Finally, as they pulled up to the Citadel, Ignis let out a low sigh. "Noctis, just tell me his name."

They both knew the extensive research Ignis had ahead of him. School records, family history, medical reports–all of it would be within his reach within the next few hours. He just needed a name.

Door open, one foot on solid ground, Noctis looked up at Ignis. A jumble of worry and anger clouded the young man's expression.

"Prompto Argentum."

Noctis slipped quickly out of the car and made his way up the Citadel steps. An air of defeat hung about the young prince, and Ignis felt a stab of guilt, but that would not halt him from his duty.

Soon, he would know everything he could about Prompto Argentum.

****************************************************************************************

Gladio made his way to the study, feeling quite confident that was where he'd find Ignis.

During his training with the prince, Noct had reluctantly admitted that he'd made a friend at school, and though the news probably should have been good, Gladio only felt a protective stab of duty. Immediately after sharing this new information, Noctis had become quiet and sullen.

As soon as their training had ended, Gladio knew he needed to track down Ignis and see what information he'd managed to find on this Prompto character.

Just as he predicted, he found Ignis reviewing various files in the large study.

"Anything I should know?" Gladio asked.

Ignis held up a finger, his eyes darting over the report in front of him. When he had finished reading, his gaze flickered over to Gladio.

"He was adopted as an infant, no information on his birth parents. His adoptive parents travel a lot on business…" Ignis paused, a faint frown pulling at his mouth. "…that could mean they have ties to unsavory characters outside of the city."

"It could," Gladio agreed. "We'll have to reach out and get some more information on their travel arrangements."

"Other than that, the boy has average grades, he's been involved in several after school clubs, both the photography club and video game club, and he has a paper route. His medical record is clean, and there really isn't anything else noteworthy in his files."

"Nothing noteworthy," Gladio muttered, "is exactly the kind of kid I'd pick if I wanted to try and get close to the prince. This could be another kidnapping ploy."

"Or," Ignis replied, "The prince could have made an actual friend."

They were silent a moment, mulling over that thought, and, for as much as Gladio hoped that was the case, they simply couldn't let their guards down. He refused to fail in protecting his prince.

"I'll reach out to my contacts outside of the city and see if I can get some eyes on Prompto's parents." He turned away, knowing Ignis would remain in the study for at least a few more hours as he reviewed all the paperwork once again. The man wouldn't rest until he was sure he'd gleaned all he could from the files. "Let me know if you find anything else of importance, and, I'll speak with Noctis about the…" he paused, searching for the right wording, "…rules of this new friendship. I don't want him hanging out with this kid outside of school unless either you or I are present."

"You'll have no argument from me, but Noctis…"

"I know," Gladio replied, cutting Ignis off. "He'll be livid about the whole situation, but the kid really doesn't get a say in the matter. Not on this."

"He'll get over it," Ignis offered, "with time."

Gladio gave a huffed reply and exited the room. He could handle the prince being mad at him. What he couldn't handle was the prince being kidnapped…or dead.


	2. Chapter 2

Prompto unlocked the front door and then slipped into the dark, silent house. 

His breath was still slightly ragged from his sprint home, but he’d made it in time to help his elderly neighbor, Clara, haul out her trash bins. The last time she’d done the task alone, she’d fallen and nearly broken a hip. Ever since then, Prompto had been sure to jog home early on the days the bins went out. 

He’d offered to take care of them for her on a regular basis, but Clara would hear none of it. She said it was asking too much of him - that he was young still and didn’t need a list of commitments just yet. Mostly though she was just stubborn and independent, but the moment Prompto showed up each day to offer help, she’d accepted it. 

He knew she was afraid of suffering another fall. 

As thanks, she baked him cookies and pastries. They were, by far, the most atrocious things Prompto had ever tasted in his life, but he’d always graciously taken the baked goods. She’d meant well, and he knew she didn’t have a lot of money. It had been kind of her to take the time and expense to prepare each batch, and even though they were inedible, they made Prompto feel special. 

Setting aside the latest tin of rock-hard, blackened cookies, Prompto started a few of his household chores. He knew, from past experience, if he didn’t keep up with the housework it would slowly build and overwhelm him.

After that, he cracked open his history textbook and started reading. Hours later, eyes blurry and head fuzzy with historical tidbits, he began his math homework. 

Eventually, realizing how late it was, he wandered into the kitchen and heated up a cup o’ noodles.

He would’ve preferred a slightly healthier meal, but this would have to do. After all, it was the cheapest thing he could purchase at the market.

With a sigh, he reached for the two bills that had been on the counter, and then he plopped down at the kitchen table.

His funds were running dangerously low, and he’d been unsuccessful in contacting his parents. They were, no doubt, totally immersed in their research.He didn’t blame them though. In fact, he was slightly more concerned about them than himself. 

Both had their respective fields of study. His mother’s specialty was agriculture and irrigation, and his father studied botany–with a keen interest in plants that held medicinal qualities. They were extremely focused and, perhaps, a bit eccentric when it came to their research. Sleep, food, basic human contact–it could all be forgotten as they worked.

In fact, it was not uncommon for Prompto to be out of contact with them for months at a time, but, even then, he never felt neglected. They loved him. If there was one thing he was absolutely positive of, it was that.

When they were home, when their research could be set aside, they spent every moment doting on him, excitedly sharing their findings with him, looking at every single one of the thousands of photographs he’d taken while they’d been away. 

Those days were full of warm embraces, loving conversations and laughter. Then their work would call them away, and Prompto would be alone once again.

As for running out of funds… 

This had happened before. Prompto’s mother probably thought his father had wired him money for the month and he thought she had, but it didn’t’ matter. He’d manage. He always did. 

As long as he didn’t miss any school, he’d have lunches thanks to the school meal plan he’d purchased. It was, perhaps, one of the better investments he’d made with his paper route money. Not only would he get lunches, but it served as a great motivation to get up every morning and get his butt to school.

He slurped down a few noodles, opened the bills and spread them out on the table before him. 

The electricity and his cellphone bill were due. If he drained the last of his grocery funds and used his next paper route check, he would just barely manage to pay both bills. 

A tendril of panic began to wrap itself around Prompto as he considered a month of bare cupboards, but he quickly calmed that concern. 

He could ask the diner owner down the street if he could pick up a few evening shifts washing dishes and clearing tables. They’d worked out this arrangement before. It was a good temporary job, and a fine way to make some extra cash.

He folded up the bills, returned them to the counter and cleaned up his mess from dinner. 

Smiling to himself, he slowly made his way upstairs to bed.

Everything would be fine. He would get through this. After all, he was frickin’ Prompto Argentum – swiftest kid on his block, ace photographer, hauler of trash bins, and befriender of princes. 

Nothing could stop him!

***************************************  
Just as promised, Prompto was waiting for Noctis outside of the school in the morning.

As they made their way down the hall, whispered voices and gazes followed the prince. Just as he had the previous day, he ignored them, but today he was surprised to realize that the unwanted attention no longer bothered him as it once had.

With Prompto bouncing along beside him, blathering on about the latest expansion for King’s Knight, the prince felt…content.

The feeling stayed with him throughout the morning, even in the classes he didn’t have with Prompto. Being alone for those few hours didn’t matter, because he knew his friend would be waiting for him in the hall after the bell rang. 

That lonely pull that used to come with each school day seemed a distant memory. 

At lunch, Noctis watched with a slight fascination as Prompto steadily devoured his school meal. 

The prince wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen anyone launch so wholeheartedly into such a questionable looking dish. Wrinkling his nose, Noctis felt a bit queasy as he eyed the food on Prompto’s tray. Was it meatloaf or chicken, and why in the world was it gray?

“Ugh,” Noctis groaned. “I can’t see how you can eat that.”

Prompto paused, swallowed down his last bite and grinned over at the prince. “Well, not all of us get a spiffy, gourmet packed lunch like you do. This Ignis guy who makes your food must be a professional chef or something.”

Noctis shrugged. If Ignis had been there, he would’ve scoffed at the compliment but been secretly flattered.

With a quiet chuckle, Prompto set back into his food, clearing the tray completely before Noctis was even halfway through his meal. 

“You didn’t eat your carrots yesterday,” Prompto said, eyeing the mentioned vegetables sitting on the table. “Are you going to trash them again today?”

Shoving the carrots toward Prompto, Noctis replied, “You want them? They are all yours.”

The exuberant ‘thanks’ was quickly followed by a steady flow of crunching. 

Noctis eyed his friend a moment before shaking his head. “Man, you really are like a human garbage disposal, aren’t you?”

Prompto blinked and then grinned. “Because I’ll eat vegetables? I’m not sure that qualifies me as a garbage disposal, but I guess you might see me as one since you are such a picky eater.”

Scowling, Noctis was about to reply that he was not a picky eater, but then he realized he was currently very carefully picking the small bits of olive out of the pasta dish Ignis had included in his meal. He looked up, his gaze meeting Prompto’s, and they both broke out laughing.

“Maybe,” Noctis conceded, “I’m a little bit of a picky eater.”

Prompto gave a little hum of agreement as he continued to crunch on the rapidly dwindling supply of carrots.

Their day continued on in much the same manner that the morning had unfurled. Classes were slightly boring, Prompto was thoroughly entertaining and the two never seemed to run out of subjects to discuss. Noctis couldn’t recall a time when he’d felt more at ease.

And then the school day ended.

Noctis spotted the car first. His chest tightened as he considered how best to divert Prompto from the vehicle. Eventually, he’d have to introduce Prompto to Ignis, but, he hoped, that didn’t have to happen quite yet. After Ignis' reaction to hearing about Prompto yesterday, the prince wasn't exactly excited about the interrogation his adviser was sure to put his new friend through.

Noctis tried to offer Prompto a curt goodbye when they were still a fair distance from the car, but Ignis had been seemingly prepared for this turn of events. 

He actually got out of the car and loudly called for Noctis and Prompto to come over. It was very un-Iggy-like.

Prompto wasted no time in sprinting over. The young man was obviously enraptured by the sleek black vehicle and, in his wide-eyed state of wonder, he hurriedly asked if it was okay if he snapped a few shots of the car with his cellphone.

Ignis, for his part, seem taken aback by the request, and Noctis was sure the man almost said no. Instead, his brief nod was enough to send Prompto launching forward, craning over the vehicle in odd angles to find the perfect shot.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Prompto. My name is Ignis.” The man’s tone was sharp, his intention, undoubtedly, to draw attention to the fact that the youth had not properly introduced himself. 

Rising from his crouched position behind the car, Prompto’s cheeks flushed pink “Oh…I-I’m sorry.” He paused to flash a bright smile at Ignis. “I completely lost my head there for a minute. These lines and shine were just a bit too much. The lighting and reflection of the school on the surface too…oh man, it’s perfect!” He halted, a startled expression crossing his face as his gaze wandered from the car to Ignis. “I’m pleased to meet you Ignis. Uh…ah…Noctis speaks highly of your cooking.”

Ignis gave a rather pleased hum, a faint smile creeping onto his face, and, suddenly, Noctis felt very uneasy.

“Perhaps, then…” Ignis began, “you’d like to come up to the Citadel for dinner tonight and have a taste of my cooking first hand? Additionally, I would consider it a pleasure to get to know Noctis’ newest friend a little better.”

The excitement that flashed across Prompto’s expression dissolved into a crumpled look of uncertainty.

“I don’t know. I mean, I’d like to, but…”

“I would be more than happy to provide you with a ride home after dinner,” Ignis offered, “if that is your concern.”

Prompto’s smile returned with full force. “Are you sure? It won’t be too much hassle, would it? I’m probably out of your way. I mean, I don’t imagine you’d live in the same neighborhood as me. It’s a nice enough neighborhood, but not that nice. You probably live somewhere a lot nicer, I bet.” He gave a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his head.

“It is no trouble,” Ignis replied, though Noctis was sure that was a lie. Opening the rear passenger side door, he gestured for the two to enter. “I’m sure there are others at the Citadel who would like to make your acquaintance as well.”

Settling into the backseat, Noctis glanced over, finding his friend fidgeting with his seatbelt. There was a strained look on the young man’s face. Worry and fear were obviously overtaking his excitement, but, as he glanced up and saw Noctis looking back at him, he forced a smile. It was almost painful to see the usually bubbly teen trying so hard to look happy with the situation. 

Noctis offered a reassuring smile back, but he could tell it did little to calm Prompto’s nerves. 

“You don’t have to go, if you don’t want.” He whispered, but Prompto was quick to shake his head.

“No, I want to. It’s just…” He paused, eyes fixed on Ignis as he made his way around the car to the driver’s door. “I just hope I don’t make a fool of myself. I mean, the Citadel? What if I do something stupid? I don’t know the etiquette.” Prompto’s eyes suddenly widened, a low gasp escaping. “We’re not going to meet your dad, are we? I don’t think…I mean, it would be nice to meet him someday…but maybe…just…not…today.” His words, spaced and stuttered sounded so timid and weak. 

Ignis was in the car now, starting the engine.

“It’s okay, Prompto.” Noctis reassured his friend. “My father’s schedule is beyond full for this week. I doubt he’d have the time for an audience with us today, and I’m sure…” Here he raised his voice, gaze snapping to meet Ignis’ in the rearview mirror, “…Ignis understands how overwhelming someone’s first visit to the Citadel can be, and he will not do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

Prompto’s lopsided grin softened a little, but the tension didn’t seem to totally drain from the boy. Noctis gave a low, inward sigh.

Somehow this was starting to feel a lot more like a kidnapping than an invitation. There was no way this little dinner party was going to end well. 

_Thanks Ignis, at least I had a friend for a couple of days…_


	3. Take a Ride

Ignis pulled into traffic. 

The drive from the high school to the Citadel was an all too familiar route for him. Dropping off and retrieving Noctis daily was time consuming, and, with an already tight schedule, Ignis would be lying if he said he’d never considered handing the task to another, but, for as tempting as it was at times, he would not falter in his duties to the Prince–no matter how trivial they seemed.

Of course, he had an ulterior motive this particular day. He could not, he felt, wait for the Prince to present his new friend, Prompto, at his own leisure. No doubt, Noctis would wait far too long for such introductions, and, by then, whatever damage this friendship could inflict would possibly already be done. 

Ignis could feel the death glare Prince Noctis currently had directed at him from the backseat, but he was hardly concerned with the young man’s ire. After all, Ignis earned that same wrath every time he attempted to get Noctis to eat his vegetables, or complete his homework, or study the latest political reports, or…

Honestly, as of late, Ignis felt that heated, angry stare almost every time he spoke with the teen. He’d become quite immune to it.

An uncomfortable silence filled the vehicle, and though Ignis was loath to turn the radio on, he also found the quiet unbearable. Alone, it would have been heaven, but with the two still figures in the back, he felt the weight of their uneasiness crushing him.

Letting out a tired sigh, he decided to address the issue at hand as directly as possible. Perhaps, that would hasten this situation along.

“I’m afraid I have a bit of a confession to make,” Ignis began, guilt creeping over him as the Argentum boy gave a slight start at the suddenness of his voice. “As Advisor to Prince Noctis, a part of my duty is to know everything I can about those who surround him.”

Judging by the look of horror Noctis was giving him, Ignis assumed that the Prince guessed what was coming and was not entirely thrilled.

Prompto smiled and gave a slight nod. “That makes sense.”

“I’m glad you agree, because, as it is my duty, I’ve researched you.” Ignis paused, watching in the rearview mirror as the realization of what was said slowly dawned on the young man.

“ _Me?_ ” Prompto’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “But, t-there’s not much…I-I mean, I’m not someone important, really.” Brow furrowed, the boy swallowed hard before catching Ignis’ gaze. “Did you find anything…you know…weird?” 

Ignis arched a brow, curious as to what exactly had the young man concerned.

“Is there anything in particular you were thinking I might find odd?” Ignis asked, trying to convey a knowing tone, hoping he could bluff out some hidden secret. 

Eye averted, shoulders hunched, the young man let out a low, shaky sigh.

Suddenly, Prompto was talking a mile a minute. “That uncooked bean I shoved up my nose…well, I was only three, and that’s perfectly normal for a three year old to do something that stupid. I mean, I shouldn’t have had a hard little bean like that! I know that’s in my medical record. I had to go in to get it out, but I don’t really remember it. My mom told me about it, and…” He slowed only long enough to draw in one deep breath. “…the coin I got stuck in my ear in when I was ten, well, I was trying to learn this magic trick, but it wasn’t working, and I just thought…well, it had to disappear somewhere, _right?_ ”

Ignis held back his groan, sorry that he’d pushed the subject.

“Now…” Prompto continued, “…the marble I got stuck up my nose last year. I-I really don’t have a good explanation for that. It just sorta happened. I think I was just driven insane by boredom, but it got me out of math class that day.”

At this point Noctis was ruddy faced as undignified snorts of laughter escaped from him. 

“Dude,” the Prince finally managed, “just calm down. If Ignis invited you for dinner, you obviously passed whatever screening he puts people through. Stop freaking out.”

Prompto clamped his mouth shut, his cheeks crimson, his expression one of pure misery. He was a truly pitiful sight. It was enough to actually make Ignis feel remorse for his badgering.

“Noctis…” Ignis began “…got his head stuck in one of the grand chairs in the great dining hall when he was eleven.” He paused, offering a soft smile when he made eye contact with Prompto in the rearview mirror. “It happened during a royal banquet.”

“Hey!” Noctis snapped. “Not cool.”

“I had to remove Noctis and the chair while the dignitaries ate.” Ignis added. “It was a most embarrassing scene. The armrest had to be cut off to free him.”

Prompto let out a low laugh, and although Noctis grumbled for a while longer, Ignis didn’t miss that candid look of appreciation the Prince flashed his way.

Evidently feeling at ease, the boys commenced conversing about video games and comics. Ignis listened, not wishing to intrude on the lively banter. They sounded so ordinary…so happy. He was a bit envious of them.

Perhaps Noctis had made a true friend. Prompto seemed genuine enough, and Ignis highly doubted the youth had any devious plots to abduct or murder their young Prince, but…

This Argentum boy hadn’t grown up in the Citadel. He would be at a loss if invited to ceremonies, and his attire would, most likely, not suffice for such events. Without countless hours of training and a tailor, he would find it difficult to navigate royal functions without making a spectacle of himself.

Additionally, he was a nervous talker. 

Ignis had barely applied pressure and the boy was regurgitating every worry that must have slunk into his head. Prompto wouldn’t be able to keep secrets. He’d probably never kept one his entire life–especially not any that could have meant the difference between life or death.

Approached by the wrong people, Prompto could, unknowingly, give them vital information about the Prince’s schedule or Citadel security. His penchant for photography would also be problematic. Unflattering photos of the royal family fetched a high price on the open market, and way too much information could be gleaned from a single shot taken from within the right areas of the Citadel.

No matter how pleasant he seemed, Prompto was a huge security risk.

Stirred from his thoughts, Ignis caught the loud laugh from the Prince in the backseat. It’d been too long since he’d heard such mirth from the youth. Holding his emotions neutral was proving to be too much of a task, and Ignis was surprised to find that he actually liked Prompto. 

There was a muted happiness that warmed Ignis as he listened to the two. Noctis deserved to experience these elements of a normal life.

Yet, Ignis couldn’t stave off his ever growing dread. He would have to play the villain eventually. He would be the one to deny outings and lecture the Prince on time management, and he would be the one left to point of how out of place Prompto would be trying to fit into certain aspects of their lives. Ignis would be the one to hound Noctis about security risks with his new friend and to second guess every activity they planned. 

To serve his Prince and Kingdom, Ignis would have to put his duties before the young man’s happiness. 

***********************************************

At first, Prompto had been thrilled with the invitation. Not only was he going to hang out with Noct outside of school, he was getting a real, not-cup-o’-noodles dinner. The thought of eating a whole meal of Ignis’ cooking already had his mouth watering.

And then he remembered exactly how far the Citadel was from his house. With his parents gone, he’d have to catch a bus home. What if he stayed late? He didn’t know the bus routes for that area. Did he have any coin on him? Could he pay for a bus? Did buses go to the Citadel? He felt too foolish to ask. Maybe it was better to just decline the offer?

Then, Ignis, as if some magical mind reader, said he’d give him a ride home after.

Elation returning, Prompto almost couldn’t contain himself, and that’s when he realized he was going to get to ride in the luxury car–that beautiful, sleek, black wondrous vehicle.

It took everything in him not to let his mounting excitement turn him into a loud, squirming ball of energy. Sliding into the car beside Noctis, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. He felt so…so…

Instantly his euphoria died away as his gaze settled on his wristband. Eradicating his elation, a white hot panic engulfed him.

He couldn’t do this. The Citadel? Oh Six, how had he not planned for this? How had he completely overlooked how complicated this would be? He’d always thought that approaching and befriending Noctis would be his biggest obstacle, but…What if his secret was exposed? Would they banish him? Execute him? Would Noctis hate him after he found out?

The tattoo on his wrist had, for so long, held a vague danger to it. When he was eight and had finally grown tired of constantly wearing the _‘magical’_ wristband that, in his imagination, gave him super powers, his parents told him the truth of his birth. They’d never kept it from him that he was adopted, saying that they were lucky that they, unlike others, got to choose their child, but they hadn’t told him everything about where he’d come from.

Apparently, he was not from the Kingdom of Lucis. His parents held him close, their voices soft, loving, as they explained that he was from Niflheim, and the tattoo was a mark of that kingdom. They explained that in order to keep him safe, they’d crafted him the wristband, so that no one in Insomnia would see the mark of the dreaded Niflheim Kingdom on him.

Niflheim–even as young as he was, Prompto recognized the name of Lucis’ enemy. 

_Enemy…_

He had cried at that. He begged his parents to take it back, to make it untrue. He couldn’t be from Niflheim. He didn’t want to be the enemy. 

All the while, they hugged him tight, whispering how much they loved him–how special he was, and how lucky they were to have him in their lives. Never, they told him, was he an enemy to them or anyone in Lucis. He was their sweet, little Prompto.

But, they stressed that his tattoo had to stay hidden–that it was easier for some people to hate than to see the truth that was before them. 

As he grew up, he’d seen that hate. He’d heard how people vehemently spoke of the dirty Nifs–of how the only good Nif was a dead Nif. 

Fidgeting with his seatbelt, Prompto felt eyes on him, and he looked up, finding Noctis watching him with a rather concerned expression. Realizing that he’d let his jubilant mood slip rather abruptly, Prompto forced a smile back onto his face. 

Noctis smiled back, but the concern still lingered in his gaze. 

“You don’t have to go… if you don’t want.” The Prince’s voice was quiet, tinged with uncertainty.

“No, I want to. It’s just…” Prompto paused, watching Ignis make his way around the car to the driver’s door. “I just hope I don’t make a fool of myself. I mean, the Citadel? What if I do something stupid? I don’t know the etiquette.” A raspy gasp escaped him as he realized that he might meet the King–the actually frickin’ King of Lucis. He rubbed his wrist absentmindedly but stopped as soon as he realized what he was doing. “We’re not going to meet your dad, are we? I don’t think…I mean, it would be nice to meet him someday…but maybe…just…not…today.” Heart pounding, a little voice in his head screamed at him to claw at the door, fling it open and run.

Then, Ignis was in the car, starting the engine.

“It’s okay, Prompto.” Noctis replied. “My father’s schedule is beyond full for this week. He’s barely had any time to see me. I doubt he’d have the time for an audience with us today, and I’m sure Ignis understands how overwhelming someone’s first visit to the Citadel can be, and he will not do anything to make you uncomfortable.”

Still wrestling down his panic, Prompto didn’t yet trust his voice. In response, he flashed another, easier, smile at Noctis. The Prince returned the gesture as the car started moving.

At first, no one spoke. Noctis held a seething glare at Ignis, Ignis kept his eyes on the road, and Prompto sat, uncomfortably watching the scene, trying to decide what exactly was going on. Was Noctis mad at Ignis for inviting him to dinner? Did Noct not want him coming to the Citadel? Should he have declined the offer?

“I’m afraid I have a bit of a confession to make.” Ignis’ voice was sudden and sharp in the stillness, startling Prompto from his thoughts. “As an Advisor to Prince Noctis, a part of my duty is to know everything I can about those who surround him.”

Catching Ignis’ gaze in the rearview mirror, Prompto smiled. “That makes sense.” 

“I’m glad you agree,” Ignis replied, “because, as it is my duty, I’ve researched you.” 

That ugly pull of panic swept over Prompto again.

“ _Me?_ ” He answered, wondering if his words could even be heard over the insane pounding of his heart. “But, t-there’s not much…I-I mean, I’m not someone important, really.” He paused, composing himself before he got to the state of tears. “Did you find anything…you know…weird?” Prompto cringed a little after he’d asked the question. It had, after all, even to his own ears, sounded as suspicious as all heck.

Ignis was quick to ask, “Is there anything in particular you were thinking I might find odd?” 

_Oh Six!_ What did this man know? Was there anything in his medical records? Prompto didn’t think so. His parents had been careful to hide his tattoo even from doctors. It hadn’t been easy, but they had been diligent, and they had reassured him that, besides the mark on his wrist, there were few, if any medical tests that could prove he was from Niflheim. 

Ignis couldn’t know. There was no way he knew. He didn’t know, _right?_

Doubt began to gnaw at Prompto. Hunched over, he stared down at his lap, wishing he could think of something to say. Knowing that his silence only made Ignis' suspicions grow, the young man forced himself to answer.

The words cascaded out of him in a frenzy, his mind fuzzy and blank as he fumbled over each sentence. At first, he wasn’t even sure what he’d launched himself into.

_The bean up his nose? The coin in his ear? Oh sweet beyond, why did he tell them about the marble last year?_

His face burning with embarrassment, he could hear Noctis’ chortle of laughter and see the tinge of redness in Ignis’ ears. 

“Dude,” Noct managed to wheeze out, “just calm down. If Ignis invited you for dinner, you obviously passed whatever screening he puts people through. Stop freaking out.”

Prompto snapped his mouth shut, realizing what the Prince said was true. If Ignis had known he was from Niflheim, he would have never invited him to the Citadel. 

Still, a part of Prompto wasn’t sure. He wanted to trust that Ignis meant him no harm, but…

“Noctis…” Ignis began “…got his head stuck in one of the grand chairs in the great dining hall when he was eleven. It happened during a royal banquet.”

“Hey!” Noctis snapped. “Not cool.”

Prompto blinked, at first stunned by the story, but then comprehending it for what it was–a gesture of kindness, a way to ease his own embarrassment. 

“I had to remove Noctis and the chair while the dignitaries ate.” There was a warmth, a fond remembrance in Ignis’ voice, even though his words conveyed a distaste for the event. “It was a most embarrassing scene. The armrest had to be cut off to free him.”

Prompto stifled his laughter to a low chuckle. Noctis grumbled a bit, but the Prince seemed to take the reveal of his past blunder in good stride otherwise. 

Tension fading, Noctis and Prompto chatted idly for a bit before launching into a serious discussion about the expansion of King’s Knight. 

Prompto had thought of trying to wrangle Ignis into the conversation, but he wasn’t sure if he was a fan of the game. In fact, there wasn’t a lot Prompto knew about Ignis. Noctis often complained about the Advisor nagging him to do his homework, or cooking too many vegetables with meals, or how he was always so zealously, perfectly on time. 

It was an interesting dynamic the Prince and his Advisor had.

Noctis had lost his mother when he was very young. The Kingdom had plunged into mourning for months after her death. Prompto had vague memories of it.

With the burden of running a Kingdom on his shoulders, King Regis probably couldn’t afford to take the time to raise a child, so, Prompto reasoned that was where Ignis came in.

It must have been nice to have someone who was always at your side, who was always looking out for you, making sure you ate right, that you did your homework. Noct was sure lucky.

The funny thing was that Ignis really wasn’t that much older than them, and Prompto had to marvel at how well the guy had himself put together. It probably didn’t hurt that he’d most certainly gotten one of the best educations in the Kingdom. Even taking that into consideration, Ignis was impressive. After all, Prompto could barely manage to take care of himself, and this guy, only a few years older, was taking care of a Prince. Ignis was basically a caretaker for the future of Lucis. 

Prompto wondered how difficult a burden that was to bear. It made him feel a twinge of pity for the guy. It made him want to do something to help.

Smiling to himself, Prompto set himself a new goal. 

He was going to become friends with Ignis as well, because, darn it, the guy looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and, honestly, he just looked like he could use a friend.


	4. Chapter 4

The Citadel left Prompto nearly speechless – _nearly._

He gazed in wonder at the stained glass windows that seemed to glow in ethereal shades as the sunlight streamed through, and the unfathomably long, intricate tapestries depicting scenes of the old kings, and the architecture. Breathy, hoarse exclamations of _‘whoa,’_ and soft gasps kept escaping from Prompto as he studied his surroundings. 

The lines, the angles–this place couldn’t have been crafted by human hands. This was insane!

When he found his voice, he must have asked Ignis a hundred questions about the Citadel, and, with the patience of a saint, Ignis answered every single one. The man’s knowledge was almost as mind boggling the building itself.

Prompto ached to take a few snapshots, but, before they’d arrived, Ignis made him promise not to take any photographs while he was in the Citadel. It was, Ignis explained, a security risk, and although Prompto could understand, it had been a crushing request. 

His nerves still on edge, his fingers were itching to take some photos. There was something so calming about viewing the world through a lense. Silly though it was, it gave him a sense of security.

They were still in the main entryway chamber when Ignis halted them both.

“Noctis, please go inform Gladio that you will not be attending your training session this evening. Explain to him that we have a guest over for dinner and that Gladio’s presence will be most welcomed tonight as we dine.” Ignis paused, his mouth pursed slightly. “If he wishes to discuss the matter further, tell him to seek me out, and, it would be for the best if Prompto waited here. Gladio has been a bit, shall we say, grumpy over the recent absences you’ve had from training.”

 _Well, that didn’t sound good._ Prompto looked from Ignis to Noct and then back again. Both Prince and Advisor looked somewhat uncomfortable, and that certainly wasn’t helping Prompto’s nerves.

“Noct!” A soft, sweet voice rang out, echoing slightly in the chamber.

Prompto flinched, looking to the staircase as a young, brunette girl of about ten or eleven barreled toward them. She was small and looked fragile but moved with the strength of a Garula. Her smile radiated warmth as she skidded to halt before them. 

“Hey, Noct, Ignis–who’s your friend?” Her eyes were fixed on Prompto, but her gaze was friendly, kind. “My name is Iris.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Prompto replied with a smile. “I’m Prompto.”

“Hey, Iris,” Noct cut in, flashing a sly grin. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to give Gladio a message for me, would you?”

“Noct,” Ignis’ voice had a warning tone that immediately had Prompto freezing in place. “That message should be given by you. Do not burden others with your responsibilities.”

Noctis opened his mouth, as if he was going to argue the matter, but he must have thought better of it. Instead, he gave Prompto an apologetic look. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I promise,” and with that he turned and disappeared down a passageway. 

Iris’ smile faltered slightly as Noctis departed but returned as she fixed her attention back on Prompto. 

“You look familiar. I think I know you from somewhere, but I can’t quite place it…” she said, her little face scrunching in concentration as she squinted at him.

He had to admit, she looked familiar as well. Perhaps they’d seen each other at school? Although, she was quite a bit younger than him, so that probably wasn't it. Where would he have seen her?

Exiting from a nearby corridor, a lone guard approached. He glanced briefly at Prompto, a tinge of wariness crossing his face, before handing Ignis a letter.

“From his Majesty, Sir,” the guard replied, turning away only after Ignis uttered a _‘thank you’_ and dismissed him.

Iris seemed unfazed by the interaction, her gaze still directed pointedly at Prompto. Of course, in the Citadel letters from the King were just a commonplace occurrence. _Nothing to see here, just a letter from the ruler of Lucis._

Prompto shifted, starting to feel incredibly out of place and a bit uneasy under Iris’ intense scrutiny. 

“I must see to …something,” Ignis said quietly, after reading the letter, “I shall return shortly.” He looked to Iris. “Please, would you stay here and keep our guest company until either Noctis or I can return?”

“Of course!” Iris answered happily. “I’d be more than happy to!”

As Ignis departed, it suddenly struck Prompto where he’d seen Iris before. Anxiety draining away, he grinned over at her.

“You were part of that track team that won all those awards for the grade school last year!” He exclaimed. “I was one of the photo club members from the Jr High who came to take your picture for the school paper.”

Iris laughed. “I remember you! You were the only one who actually ran with us! Though I seem to recall most of those action shots you took were rather blurry. Still, your other pictures were amazing. Didn’t one of yours get chosen for the cover?”

Prompto shook his head. “Naw, one of the other club members got an epic shot of a baton hand-off. It was awesome, but some of my pics were in the paper a few pages in.”

“Oh,” Iris replied, fidgeting a little. 

“But,” Prompto said, excitement filling him, “I do have some pictures I had wanted to get to you, but I…well…I didn’t know how to get a hold of you…or what your name was, for that matter.”

“ _Oh?_ ” Iris answered, a touch of concern evident in her tone.

Prompto grimaced, realizing how creepy that might have sounded. “No, not weird stuff or anything…I mean…” He could feel his face burning. How did he manage to keep making this worse? “It was from that day at the track. Your brother came to pick you up from practice, and the lighting was really good and you both just looked so happy, and I had already been taking pictures of the audience right then, so it wasn’t like anything out of the ordinary or anything…I just…” He shrugged, exhausted from his own blathering explanation.

“You have pictures of Gladio and me?” Iris asked, her smile returning. 

“Yeah,” he replied softly, “they are really good too, and, I just thought, it’d be nice if you had them…you two just looked so happy.”

Prompto’s mind wandered, drawing up images of those pictures. He could visualize how the sunset had bathed them in a warm red glow, how the colors contrasted and complemented each other in such an interesting way, how that massive wall of a man had melted at the sight of his sister, and how she had joyfully flung herself into his arms. He’d swung her around dizzyingly fast before pulling her in for tender hug. There was such a softness and love to their exchange. It had been beautiful, and the photos were beautiful.

Prompto nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected, high-pitched squeal of delight Iris gave, and if that hadn’t startled him enough, the sudden hug he was engulfed in finished him off. Staggering back a step as he was released, he blinked over at the girl.

“If I give you my e-mail address can you send them to me? Gladdy has been so busy lately, and I know he could use something to cheer him up. I was trying to think of something nice to do for him. He’d love some photos of us! Just don’t tell him about it. I’d like to surprise him.”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.” He pulled out his phone, created a new contact section, and then handed it over to Iris so she could put in her information.

As she happily tapped away, something clicked in Prompto’s head.

“Gladio is your brother?” He asked and Iris nodded. “That giant guy who picked you up from practice is the Shield to the Prince?” 

Again, she nodded. 

“ _Gladdy?_ ” He asked, his voice climbing a pitch higher than he intended.

“Nickname,” Iris answered nonchalantly. “I’ll put my number in too, just in case.”

“Okay, sounds good…” Prompto nodded, staring at the floor, pondering how angry that behemoth of a dude was going to be over Noct missing a training session. Would he blame Prompto for intruding on their training time? He was starting to really wish he’d declined this dinner offer.

“All done!” Iris chirped, handing the phone back to Prompto. “And I expect you to contact me soon!” She gave one wide grin, her eyes sparkling with joy. 

Then, a shadow cast over the two and Prompto glanced up and found a great hulking, dark figure glaring down at him.

“Gladdy!” Iris shouted, and she was wrapped around the giant man’s neck in an instant. 

How Gladio managed to looked both pleased to see his sister and capable of murdering Prompto all at once was a mystery, and it was not one that the blond wished to explore. Taking a few steps back, Prompto wondered if he’d be able to outrun the muscular man, _or_ if he was about to be punched to death. 

It was only after Gladio opened his mouth, his gruff voice laced with contempt, that Prompto was pretty sure he was about to meet a swift demise.

“Why…” Gladio growled, “…did my sister give you her phone number?”

**************************************************

“You should’ve been nicer to Prompto,” Iris grumbled. “You made him twitchy.”

It was, in fact, the first thing she’d said to Gladio since they’d gotten in the car. He’d started to think she was going to give him the silent treatment for the entire ride home.

At the Citadel, she’d shot subtle glares all him all evening. A few, he admittedly might have earned. He'd been less than friendly with Noctis’ new companion. Not even Ignis’ cooking had soothed Gladio’s wrath.

“Oh, yeah?” He replied, turning down their street. “You planning on making him my future brother-in-law or something?” Yep, even the thought, no matter how jestfully presented, still made Gladio’s blood boil. 

_Who was this kid? What made him think he could get Iris’ number? Prompto was fifteen, and Iris was only eleven. There was no way he was just gonna stand by and let some little punk of a…_

“Don’t be like that.” Iris signed, leaning against the passenger side door. “He didn’t ask me out or anything. I already told you not to worry. Why can’t you trust me?”

Gladio gave a hoarse laugh. “I trust you, Iris, but I don’t trust any boys who come within twenty feet of you. That’s my duty as an older brother.”

“You trust Noct,” she replied.

“Well, that’s different. He’s the Prince, and he would never…” Gladio paused, catching the cringe Iris gave as he spoke.

 _Ah, hell._ He’d forgotten about her crush on Noct. 

“What I meant was…”

“I know what you meant, Gladdy,” she replied sadly. “I know.”

There was a moment of silence as he pulled up to their building and parked.

“Why…did you give him your number then?” he asked gently. “We really don’t know a lot about this Prompto kid yet. I worry too much, I know, but if anything ever happened to you, I’d…well…I’d…”

“Gladdy.” She looked up, her soft brown eyes meeting his. “Trust me. Prompto’s a good guy. I asked him for help with something. You’ll find out what it was soon enough, and you’re probably going to feel like a jerk for how you’ve already acted, so don’t add to that, okay?” 

Iris opened her door, hopped out of the vehicle and then looked back to smile down at him. “Thanks though for trying to look out for me, even if I don’t need it.”

“No problem, kid-o,” Gladio replied, “anytime.” Though he highly doubted she didn’t need him in this case.

He exited the car, following Iris toward the house, promising himself that if this Prompto kid did anything to hurt his sister, he’d make him pay.

*******************************

Noctis lay back in bed, his eyelids felt weighted, begging to close, but his thoughts kept playing through the events of the evening.

Ignis hadn’t been as awful as he could have been. Iris had been a delight, and Gladio had been…

Noct frowned, thinking back to the sullen scowls the man kept directed at Prompto all evening, and how he’d infused a touch of venom in his voice whenever he addressed the youth.

Poor Prompto had been all smiles and politeness, but nothing seemed to melt Gladio’s foul mood.

Noctis’ phone gave a buzz and he groaned before forcing himself to fumble for it. Just as he thought, it was Prompto texting him.

 

PROM: Just got home. Ignis asked me a million questions on the ride here. I kinda feel like I was just in a job interview. I think he’s still a bit unsure about me.  
NOCT: Yeah, just ignore that. He’ll stop eventually….and, just so you know, Gladio isn’t always like he was tonight. Not that much at least.  
PROM: Dude, I’m pretty sure Gladio hates me.  
NOCT: He saw you getting his little sister’s number. What did you expect? Why didn’t you just tell him the truth?

Prompto’s text didn’t pop up right away. It took a few minutes for him to answer.

PROM: I know it’s dumb, but I didn’t want to ruin her surprise.  
NOCT: A few pictures are worth getting killed over?  
PROM: Dude, these are REALLY good pictures. After all, I took them.  
NOCT: You’re crazy…  
PROM: I e-mailed Iris the pictures as soon as I got home. She said she’s going to give them to Gladio in the morning and make him play nice from here on out. So, maybe I’ll live through this!  
NOCT: Or he’s going to be mad that no one told him what was going on and made him look like a fool.  
PROM: Thanks, can’t let me cling to any hope, huh?  
NOCT: Sorry. I’m sure you’ll be fine. Plus, I’ll give him an order that he’s not allowed to kill or maim you.  
PROM: Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better. Okay, I gotta go to bed now. See you in the morning.  
NOCT: Night.

Setting his phone aside, Noctis could feel the warm, numbing pull of sleep settling over him. His thoughts drifted vaguely over what the following school day would bring–classes, homework, Prompto’s excited banter, training with Gladio, lectures from Ignis, texts from Prompto…

Breathing even, calm, Noctis smiled to himself as his thoughts scattered and sleep overtook him.

**********************************

Wearing the frilly, white apron Iris had gotten him, Gladio stood at the stove scrambling eggs. He’d slept well and woke feeling ready to tackle the day.

There was already a healthy stack of buttermilk pancakes on the table and bacon cooling on the counter. All he needed was someone to help him eat it all–not that it would have been difficult for him to finish it off alone, but he liked the company.

_Where was Iris? Had she slept in?_

Gladio set down his spatula, worry growing as he wondered if his little sister had come down with something. She was usually such an early riser. 

Just as Gladio had started to untie his apron, planning on heading upstairs to check on Iris, she appeared. 

Still in her nightgown, hair a tussled mess, she had a sly grin directed squarely at Gladio. It was then that he noticed she was holding something behind her back.

“I’ve got something for you,” she beamed.

“For _me?_ ” He blinked, wondering what day it was that merited gift giving. An edge of panic came over him as he wondered if he’d missed a major holiday. “It’s not my birthday.”

Iris laughed. “I know that, but you’ve been working so hard lately, and you still make time for me. It must be exhausting, and… I just wanted to do something nice for you.” She reached forward, offering him the thing she’d had hidden behind her back.

“You didn’t have to…” Gladio’s words trailed as his eyes scanned what Iris had for him. It was digital picture frame scrolling through photos he’d never seen before.

They were of Iris and him. The series captured one of their greetings – Iris running to him, launching into his arms, him twirling her around, and him pulling her into a tight embrace. He stared a long while at the pictures, surprised at how much joy and love they captured.

“I love this,” he finally managed to reply, grinning up at Iris. “They’re beautiful.”

“Prompto took them,” she answered softly. “He was one of the photo club members that came to the track practice that day to get pictures for the school paper. When he saw me at the Citadel yesterday, he remembered me and thought I should have these.”

Gladio set the picture frame on the table and frowned. _This had been what Iris had asked Prompto for help with?_

It wasn’t until he noticed Iris watching him that he felt a flash of heat in his cheeks. Quickly, he turned back to his scrambled eggs, escaping her stare.

“So this was why you were giving him your contact information?”

Iris pulled out a kitchen chair and sat down at the table. “Yep.”

He sighed. “You could have told me. If I would have known, I wouldn’t have been so hard on the kid. I would have…”

“You,” Iris interrupted, “need to learn to trust me.”

Gladio grumbled to himself and dumped the scrambled eggs onto a plate. “I don’t see why Prompto didn’t tell me.”

Iris shrugged. “He said he didn’t want to ruin my surprise. He’s just like that, I guess.”

Gladio set the plate of scrambled eggs on the table and then sat down. Both he and Iris quietly started to eat.

In his head, he kept thinking over how he’d acted the evening before. He’d gone all out with the intimidation factor for Prompto. The kid had tried to smile and joke his way through it, but it was obvious it had him shaken.

 _Ah hell._ He was going to have to apologize to the kid, and Ignis and Noct were probably both going to lecture him about his temper. Of course, none of this would have happened if Iris and Prompto had just told him what was up. 

“You know,” Iris said, breaking the silence, “it was really impressive that Prompto didn’t cave and tell you about the photos. I mean, you are pretty scary, but for as nervous as he was, he held his ground. I bet a lot of people would have caved.”

Mouth full of pancakes, Gladio gave a quiet hum of agreement. It was impressive, especially for such a scrawny, non-combat, twig of a kid. Actually, after it was all said and done, Gladio was rather impressed with the kid. He’d held his own really well, and the guy had even gotten a laugh or two out of Ignis. He actually did seem pretty nice.

“Thanks, Iris,” he answered, “for the pictures and for….well…just being you.”

She laughed. “I thought I was supposed to be the sappy one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, eventually there is going to be a bit of hurt/comfort coming up in a chapter or two. Shouldn't be anything too graphic, but I like to give a slight head's up. Not sure how long this story will run either. I'd guess it might go two or three more chapters, but we will see. Sometimes these things get a life of their own and grow. *grins*


	5. Chapter 5

It had been nearly a month since Noctis and Prompto had started high school, and it seemed odd now to Ignis that there was ever a time before young Argentum was in their lives. 

Stretching out on the couch, the Prince’s Advisor allowed himself a minor respite after, once again, fulfilling his role as Noctis’ and, to some extent, Prompto’s caretaker. 

He’d picked them up from school, made them snacks, listened to their banter, asked about their homework, reminded the Prince of his evening duties, reviewed their itinerary for the next day, and started prepping dinner.

He’d honestly been more than a little grateful when the two had decided to skulk off to play video games... _although_ …they should have been starting their homework. 

Ignis frowned. He didn’t have it in him to nag them just yet. The argument he’d had with Noctis about skipping training with Gladio that evening had been draining enough. 

In half an hour, he’d resume his duty as the killer of all things joyful and make the two youths start their math assignment. For now, he just needed a moment to sit.

“You look beat,” Gladio said, appearing suddenly and handing a can of Ebony over as he plopped down on the overstuffed chair near the couch.

Ignis opened the can and sighed. He knew that denying his fatigue would do no good. “The school’s biology lab brought in Chocobo eggs today, _and_ one of them hatched…”

The deep laugh that escaped the Shield filled the room. “Prompto must’ve been pretty wound up after that.”

“For the entire ride here he wouldn’t let a moment of silence pass,” Ignis replied, rubbing his temple. “His excitement, while endearing, is, shall we say…exhausting.” Still, he found himself smiling as he recalled Prompto’s play by play storytelling of the hatching Chocobo. 

The lad’s cheery disposition was rather infectious. The Prince had most certainly been more agreeable since befriending the lanky blond, and even the broody Shield smiled more often now.

“Yeah,” Gladio paused, staring thoughtfully at the floor. “Yesterday, Prompto asked if I would be willing to start training him alongside Noct. I’d thought it’d get Noct more excited about training, but his royal pain in my butt seems even more determined to skip.” He looked up at Ignis. “I don’t get it.”

Ignis set his can of Ebony on the side table and shrugged. “I believe Noctis might be worried for his friend’s safety. Your training is intense, and Prompto is well… _Prompto_. He doesn’t exactly seem suited for fighting. His camera is the fiercest weapon I can imagine him wielding.”

“Well, if he’s going to be hanging out with Noctis, he needs to be ready for anything.” There was a pensive sadness in Gladio’s tone. It was part of the life of being near the royal family. One always had to be prepared for the worst. Gladio, as the Prince’s Shield, knew that better than most.

“I’ll talk with Noctis.” Ignis sat up straight, considered taking the boys some lemonade and then decided against it. They would come to him when they were thirsty. “Did you manage to find out much more about Prompto’s parents?”

“A little. Their research is solid and enough of their colleagues adamantly vouched for them, but, even after all this time, I haven’t been able to get eyes on them yet. His dad is deep in the wilds studying some rare root system and his mom is somewhere in the mountains tracking the melting of snow-caps and glaciers that are supposed to be feeding a few dying rivers. Honestly, I don’t believe Prompto’s parents are anything more than what they claim. I highly doubt they would be any danger to Noct.”

Ignis took a sip of his Ebony. “It still would be reassuring to actually meet these people at some point though.”

“Yeah,” Gladio sighed, “but, from the sounds of it, they are just _really_ into their work. They’ve made some major breakthroughs in the past…saved a lot of lives. From what I’ve gathered, they can be gone for months at a time. Apparently, when they’re traveling, they wire money back home to pay the bills and keep the kid fed.”

Ignis considered that a moment. 

It was hard to imagine the bright, happy Prompto returning to a dark, empty house every night. 

“I think I’ll see if he’d like to stay for dinner,” Ignis said at last, earning another laugh from Gladio.

“I thought that was a standing invitation at this point. He’s here almost every night.”

“He’ll leave if I don’t offer the invite,” Ignis replied softly. “I believe he feels that he’s intruding otherwise.”

“ _Intruding?_ ” Gladio quirked a brow. “Noctis is a million times easier to deal with when Prompto is around. I’m hoping like hell that Chocobo head starts coming to practice. I don’t even care if I can’t teach the beanpole a thing, if I can get Noctis to actually start training again, it would be worth it.”

It was, Ignis knew, the truth. 

Clearing the Prince’s schedule to make time for his new friend had been difficult, but the Advisor made it happen. Even with the tightened schedule, life just became easier when Noctis was able to see Prompto more often. The boy’s mere presence just made the Prince so much more agreeable.

Then, there were those frustrating times when Prompto mysteriously had plans and could not make time for the Prince. 

It was during those days that Noct became utterly miserable to deal with. He turned back into a melancholy, mouthy youth, but Ignis could see through the act. He could see the hurt and fear. Noctis hated being alone, of thinking he might lose someone else – that maybe Prompto didn’t need the friendship as much as he did.

“If this friendship fails…” Ignis let the thought trail.

“…Noct will be devastated,” Gladio finished, “and…well….I’d be a bit bummed too. The kid has kind of grown on me.” 

Ignis gave a soft murmur of agreement.

As a general rule, the Advisor and Shield had previously kept themselves at a comfortable emotional distance from Noctis’ friends. It was easier to assess them, to watch for signs of unusual behavior, to kick them to the curb when they misused their friendship with the Prince.

Prompto, however, had somehow managed to skirt Ignis and Gladio’s emotional barrier. It hadn’t been forceful or demanding. He was just always there – smiling, holding easy, light conversations, offering to help Ignis cook or getting all glossy-eyed and slack-jawed as Gladio told the boys about one of his _‘adventures_.’

“Noctis has procured a ticket for Prompto to go to the Darkhouse Comic Expo with us.” Ignis leaned forward. 

Gladio gave a sharp whistle. “Pricey tickets, but it’ll be nice to have him along.”

Ignis nodded. “I agree, but…”

“Noct has been spending a lot on the kid lately.” Gladio finished. “I noticed that he’s ramped up his buying. Arcade tokens, meals, tickets to events, junk food…”

“I’ll talk with the Prince, and, after the Expo, we’ll curb his spending…for a bit…” Ignis paused briefly, not enjoying the turn the conversation had taken, but knowing it had to be said nonetheless. “…until we can be sure that Prompto isn’t just here for the momentary perks of being close to Noctis.”

Ignis doubted that was the case, but he’d been wrong in the past, and it was Noctis who’d eventually suffered for it. It was best to use caution, after all, they had only known Prompto for a month.

“Yeah,” Gladio answered, “It’s a good call, Iggy. Just to be safe.”

A creak of a hinge had both Advisor and Shield glancing toward the door. 

Biting his lower lip, eyes wide, brows scrunched slightly, Prompto stood staring in at them.

“Uh….I…um…” He lowered his gaze, a flush of crimson shading his cheeks. “Noctis wanted to know if we could get some lemonade.” He let out a sharp little breath, “I-I…uh…didn’t mean to hear…sorry…” His voice was barely audible.

“Prompto…” Ignis halted, realizing he was too late. The boy had already retreated.

“ _Aw, hell_ …” Gladio muttered. “Noct is going to be so mad.”

Yes, he was, but that didn’t bother Ignis near as much as that look of hurt on Prompto’s face did. Sighing, the Advisor stood and started for the kitchen. He had lemonade and an apology to serve. 

Behind him, Gladio silently followed.

*********************

Hurrying back to Noctis’ room, Prompto’s thoughts raced. 

_Am I a mooch? Does Noct think I’m a mooch?_

He started counting all the times Noctis had paid for their activities and food, and as the number climbed, so did Prompto’s panic. 

He’d been so grateful, thanking Noct, making sure to let the Prince know that he didn’t have to, but, at the same time, it had been so nice to do so many fun things without worrying about spending money that was meant to pay his bills. Truthfully, Prompto wouldn’t have been able to do any of the things Noctis wanted to do if he had to pay for himself. 

Heck, he didn’t even currently have enough cash to feed himself. If he wasn’t eating dinner at the Citadel every night, then he would just have to go without. 

_I am a mooch!_

Prompto slowed his pace, embarrassment nagging at him. How had he not seen that earlier? 

_It’s okay….I can fix this!_

He’d the opportunity to take on more shifts at the diner. One of the regular busboys had quit and they were hurting for the help. Plus, he could grab an extra paper route in the morning. He’d have to get up stupid early, but he wouldn’t have to do it forever. Maybe…like, a couple of weeks?

Prompto knew he couldn’t rely on his parents’ checks for help. He’d made a few calls and found out the companies they were currently contracted with had the wrong banking account numbers for his parents. Since the company footed all his parent’s travel and food bills, they wouldn’t have a clue about the banking account snafu until they’d returned home.

At least this meant that his mom and dad hadn’t totally forgotten about him–that was a slight comfort. 

The check situation was a mess though, and there was nothing Prompto could do about it. Only his parents could fix the issue, and, besides the random, unaddressed postcards he’d received in the mail, no one had heard from them.

From their scribblings, Prompto assumed they both planned to be gone for another few weeks or so, but they’d promised to be back for his birthday. They always made it back for his birthdays.

Hurrying down a corridor, Prompto made a few quick decisions. No more mooching…well…except for the Darkhouse Comic Expo. Noct had the tickets and it would be rude to say no after already agreeing to go.

A stab of guilt struck Prompto. He should have never of agreed to go. He’d known how expensive the tickets were, and he’d still leapt at the chance to go, never considering that he might have been taking advantage of his friendship with the Prince. 

Swallowing down his guilt, Prompto tried to plaster a smile back on his face as he neared the door to Noct’s room. 

If he took on the extra work at the diner and got the additional paper route, he could start grocery shopping again and paying for some of his activities with Noct. Of course, that meant less time to spend with the Prince. It didn’t sound like an appealing trade-off, but Prompto could make it work.

Mentally, he ran through what his new work schedule would entail. Get up really early. Complete both paper routes. Get home, shower and head to school. Get a full lunch at school. Go with Noctis to the Citadel after school and do training with Gladio. It would be okay to get a snack from Ignis–but no dinner. He could slip out and catch the bus home while Ignis was cooking. A single evening shift at the diner would get him some grocery, bus and extra spending money.

Prompto gave a little groan as he realized he’d have to get his schoolwork done after the diner shift. That would mean staying up late. Coupled with the early mornings, he was going to be dog tired for a while. 

“Just for two weeks,” Prompto whispered to himself. “I can do this for two weeks. No problem!”

Smile faltering, his thoughts trailed back to Ignis and Gladio’s conversation. He hadn’t overheard much, and he knew they hadn’t meant to hurt his feelings. This was their job. They protected Noct. Even if it hurt a little to hear their suspicions, Prompto could appreciate how well they looked after the Prince – how much they cared for him. 

Noct was so lucky.

********************************

Feeling his anger build, Noct stared at the door, waiting. He wasn’t sure what had taken place, but he was confident it was Gladio and Ignis’ fault.

Prompto’s strained smiles and fumbled words had clearly indicated that he was upset. Then, when he announced he had to leave, and he declined the offer of a ride in favor of using the bus, Noct was sure something had happened.

With a hasty goodbye, Prompto fled, leaving Noct with the two player game paused just before the final boss battle. Disappointment quickly gave way to frustration and anger as Noct considered what had spooked Prompto enough to leave at such a pinnacle point of the game. They’d worked pretty darn hard to make it that far.

It wasn’t long before Ignis, with a tray of lemonade in hand, came into the room with Gladio close at his heels.

“Where’s Prompto?” Ignis asked, looking around.

Noct tossed his controller aside and glared over at his Advisor. “He left.”

“ _He left?_ ” Gladio repeated, his normally gruff expression slipping to reveal a hint of guilt.

“Said he’d take the bus – that he didn’t want to be a bother.” Noct replied, not caring how cold and angry his tone sounded. 

Ignis visibly flinched at that. “I see,” he replied. “I…I must apologize, Your Highness. I fear Prompto’s departure is my fault.”

“ _Our_ fault,” Gladio corrected. “He overheard us talking.”

Noct could feel his stomach drop with his growing sense of dread. “And what did he hear you say?” His words were harsh, direct.

Ignis bowed his head slightly, and Noct found the gesture, so humbling and remorseful, such a foreign, unnerving motion for the man to be making.

“We were discussing how you had increased your spending as of late…after befriending Prompto, and how it would be good to curb that for a bit until…” Ignis paused, as if searching for the right phrasing.

“We just wanted to be sure Prompto was hanging around for the right reasons,” Gladio grumbled, “and not because you were paying for everything.” 

The accusation stung. Noct bit down his anger, his jaw clenched, face aching as he scowled over at the two men before him. Prompto must have felt humiliated. It was no wonder he left.

There were a million hateful words that seemed to bubble inside Noct’s head, but he waited until his thoughts calmed before he spoke. In the silence, Ignis stood stock still while Gladio shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Noct shrugged. “I understand why you are concerned, but Prompto isn’t like that, and…and…I’m …I don’t….You shouldn’t have…” He couldn’t force the words out, as his anger gave way to grief. What if Prompto didn’t want to be his friend anymore? What if he was too embarrassed to hang out with Noct now? 

“I’m sorry, Your Highness.” Ignis’ voice was soft, soothing.

Noct nodded, but didn’t look up. “Just go. I want to be alone.”

There was a moment of hesitation, where neither the Advisor nor Shield moved, but, finally, they silently left the room.

After a few minutes, Noct scooped up his phone and texted Prompto.

 

 _ **Noctis:** Hey. I talked with Ignis and Gladio. I’m sorry. They are idiots._

Ten minutes pasted, Noctis staring at his phone, continually reminding himself to breath as he waited. 

_**Prompto:** Srry…was catching the bus. Almost got on the wrong one. It’s okay. They’re kinda right, I guess? You shouldn’t pay all the time._

_**Noctis:** but I’m the one who wants to do all the expensive stuff_

_**Prompto:** Well, I wasn’t going to say that, but…lol. No worries, dude. We can still go to the arcade sometimes and maybe see a movie, but I can pay for myself. It’s no big deal. I just hope you are okay with maybe not doing the really expensive stuff…like go-carts and eating at fancy restaurants. I mean, you can always go do that stuff without me._

_**Noctis:** What, go with Iggy and Gladdy? So boring…I’d rather just hang out at the Citadel and read comics with you._

_**Prompto:** Sounds good to me. See you at school tomorrow?_

_**Noctis:** Yeah, see you then._

 

Noctis tossed his phone aside and flung himself facedown onto the couch. Slowly, some tension eased out of his body. Prompto wasn’t mad. He wasn’t going to avoid Noct. He was…well, just Prompto still.

Things were going to change, Noct was sure of that. Though the blond would try and hid it, the Prince knew he’d been hurt by the comments he’d overheard. It was unfair, but, at the same time, Noct could understand Ignis and Gladio’s worry. 

Ultimately, Noct decided the fault was his own. He shouldn’t have put Prompto in such a position. He should have realized that this concern would have risen, that Prompto would end up feeling embarrassed and upset. 

Exhausted from his whirlwind of emotions, Noct felt the tendril of slumber starting to overtake him. As he drifted off, his last thoughts were on how lucky he was to have a friend like Prompto.

 

***************************

 

Gladio was more than a little surprised when both Noctis and Prompto showed up for training, on time, the following day. He’d assumed the blond would make himself scarce after the fiasco the previous day, and that Noct would skulking around like an angry cat, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

In fact, both boys acted as if nothing had happened. Prompto was all eagerness and smiles, and Noct was calm, smiling and…well…ready to train. It was enough to make Gladio’s skin itch.

“You know,” he said, approaching Prompto, “about yesterday…”

The blond was quick to interrupt, “No harm, no foul, dude. I get it. Noct and I talked. It’s all good. Now, let’s train!”

To emphasis his eagerness, the kid tried to pick up a broadsword from the rack. He only managed to raise it a few feet before it clanked to the floor, his arms twitching and shaking as he kept trying to heft the weapon up. 

Gladio gave a huff of laughter. “I don’t think you’re suited for that weapon.”

Prompto shrugged. “Yeah, might have to work my way up to this one.” He tried to put it back on the rack and failed. Sheepishly, he glanced up at Gladio. “Could I get a little help here, big guy?”

Again Gladio found himself laughing, only this time he heard Noct’s quiet chuckles as well. It was nice. He couldn’t recall the last time they’d started training in such high spirits. 

Prompto, it turned out, did not have much of a knack for any kind of sword or knife play, and his skill level was so far below Noct’s that their sparing matching were practically over before they began. No matter how hard the fall though, the kid was up and grinning from ear to ear. 

“That move was _soooo_ cool!” Prompto exclaimed as he peeled himself off the floor once again. “Can I learn that?”

“Maybe you should just learn how to dodge first,” Noct replied, offering his friend a hand. “You’re going to be black and blue just from today.”

Gladio couldn’t have agreed more. The kid just wasn’t built for this kind of combat, but, hell, it was nice having Noct working out as hard as he was. 

“Let’s try something a little different,” Gladio said. He strolled over to a wooden box near the weapons rack and pulled out two training pistols. The weapons fired rubber bullets. They still hurt like heck, but they did very little damage. He handed the guns over to Prompto. “I want you and Noct to fight off me and…” He paused to motion one of the other Glaives over. “…and Timmons.”

“Uh…I don’t know about this…” Prompto frowned at the weapons in his hands. He was holding them like they were living, dangerous creatures. “I don’t want to shoot you!”

As Timmons neared them, he let out a soft chuckle. “No worries, friend. They are practice weapons with rubber bullets. Still, if you could refrain from shooting me in the face, I’d much appreciate it.”

Prompto blinked at the redhead for a moment. “I can’t promise much. Outside of video games, I’ve never shot a gun before. So, I’m really sorry if I shoot you in the face. I’ll try really hard not to.”

Timmons frowned, casting an unsure glance at Gladio. “ _Oh…_ ”

Honestly, Gladio wasn’t sure Timmons had much to be worried about. Prompto was a nervous ball of energy. It would be some kind of miracle if he could steady himself enough to get one good shot in.

“Let’s do this,” Noct said, taking up a defensive stance. The Prince turned his gaze to Prompto and smiled. “You got this, okay? Just try your best.”

Gladio and Timmons sprang forward in a unified sweeping motion. They’d fought together enough times to know how to move as one. Already, Gladio could tell from the redhead’s movements that he was planning on taking it easy on the novices, but those plans quickly changed. 

Prompto’s guns started up, and Timmons instantly winced as bullets pelted his arms and legs. He dropped to the ground, rolling to the side and finding some cover. Gladio faltered in his attack, so stunned by Argentum’s shots that he almost failed to notice Noct’s incoming attack. Pushed backward, he nearly lost his footing, only his brutish strength kept him upright. 

_Damn…_ He was impressed.

The match kept up its frantic pace. Prompto and Noct switching opponents whenever anyone got too close to the gunner. Noct would push the enemy back, forcing them to have to reclaim the ground between themselves and Prompto, all the while being pelted with bullets. 

Gladio was breathing hard and sweating profusely, but so was everyone else. Grinning to himself, the Shield was sure this was one of the best sparring matches he’d had with the young Prince, but it was time to end it.

Overpowering Noct with this strength, he managed to trip the kid up, sending him to the floor. Broadsword raised, Gladio was about to bring it down and press it lightly against Noct’s chest to take the victory, but then a searing shot of pain struck him between the eyes. Vision blurry, he dropped his sword to the side and blinked over at Timmons as he knocked Prompto to the ground and lightly pressed a dagger to his neck. 

Eyes watering, Gladio turned away, hearing Noct give a groan.

“We tied,” Noctis grumbled. “I thought we had you for sure.”

By the time Gladio’s vision cleared and he blinked away the tears forming in his eyes, Timmons was helping Prompto up and Noct was strolling over to the two. 

“I can’t believe you shot him in the face…” Timmons’ voice was low, his gaze darting back to Gladio. “…and don’t tell me that was an accident. You made every shot you took today. I have the bruises to prove it.”

That overwhelmingly goofy grin that had been plastered on Prompto’s face suddenly disappeared, a look of concern swelling in its place. 

Trotting to Gladio, the blond was staring hard at a spot between the Shield’s eyes. “I’m so sorry,” Prompto sputtered. “I wasn’t thinking. Well, I was. I meant to shoot you between the eyes, but, I shouldn’t have. I mean, it probably really hurt, and it wasn’t very nice to do, and this was only a practice. I-I…Oh man…it’s all red…I'm so sorry!”

“Prompto,” Gladio reached over, causing the kid to flinch, but he relaxed once the Shield’s hand settled on his shoulder. “That was amazing, don’t apologize.” And he meant it. “You and Noct should go hit the showers now. I’m sure Ignis will have something special cooked up for dinner tonight.”

Prompto’s face went from beaming to disappointed at the mention of dinner, but he regained his bright, easy smile quickly and turned away, speeding toward Noctis, excited words spewing out of him as he babbled on about how great the sparring match was. 

Gladio watched the two as they departed. Each was smiling, happy.

“You know,” Timmons said quietly, as he strolled up beside Gladio, “He's a natural with the guns. The kid could have taken us out at any time. His shots were dead accurate.”

“Yep.” Gladio had thought the same thing. “But he didn’t want to hurt us, so he kept aiming for arms and legs.”

They were silent a moment.

“Near the end,” Timmons added, “Prompto saw me coming for him. He could have shot at me, but then, from the corner of his eye, he saw Noct fall.” Timmons paused, a crooked smile appearing on his face. “The kid didn’t hesitate. He just turned and shot, and let me take him down.”

Gladio gave a soft murmur of interest. 

“Well,” Timmons turned, heading for the door, “if it were my call, I’d say he might just make a damn fine Glaive one day, but that’s just my opinion.” Then, Timmons left.

Alone, Gladio let out a long, weary sigh. The man was right, but, some protective part of Gladio wasn’t sure if he wanted that for the boy. It wasn’t an easy life. 

He spent the rest of the evening pondering whether to approach Prompto with the possibility, but, finally, he decided to hold off. The kid was still young, perhaps when he and Noct graduated, Gladio would bring up the idea, but until then, he’d just keep training the boys and see how they progressed. 

Still, there was a slight swelling of pride that Gladio felt when he thought of Prompto’s performance that day. He had far surpassed what Gladio had expected of him. In fact, the Shield actually found himself eager to join the others for dinner, just so he could relay the events of the day to Ignis and give Prompto and Noct all the praise they deserved. 

Strolling down the corridor, Gladio hummed to himself as the odor of Ignis’ cooking hit him. Whatever it was, it smelled absolutely delicious. 

Upon entering the kitchen though, Gladio felt his mood shift. 

Noct sat slumped at the table, frowning, nose buried in a math book. Ignis stood watching a pan of sizzling vegetables and meat, but his expression was strained. He looked to be taking no enjoyment from his cooking. 

Prompto was nowhere to be seen.

“Uh, where’s…” Gladio was cut short.

“He left,” Noct huffed. “He said he had somewhere to be…that he might have to skip out on dinners here during the week.”

Ignis looked up from his pan, his gaze saying it all. 

_This is our fault._

Gladio shrugged and settled into a seat at the table. Save for the sizzle of the food cooking, the room remained silent. There was no idle chatter, no laughter. There was only sullen silence. 

 

**********************************************

 

Prompto had to run to catch his bus. He’d underestimated the time it would take to explain to Ignis and Noct that he had to leave. Neither seemed willing to let him go, and Prompto had been fairly surprised to see how hurt both Ignis and Noct looked that he was leaving. He’d expected Noct to be upset, but the look of despair on Iggy’s face had him almost rethinking his plans.

Still, he somehow managed to slip away. It was a good thing too. Being late to his first real shift at the diner wouldn’t have looked good. 

“Sorry, guys,” Prompto whispered, staring back at the Citadel as the bus pulled away. 

He straightened in his seat and pulled out his math homework. He could at least start it on the bus ride, but his thoughts kept straying back to Noct, Ignis and Gladio. A tinge of loneliness settled over him as he thought of them sitting around the table, eating, laughing, and talking. Vaguely, he wondered if they would miss him. He thought, maybe, they would.


	6. Chapter 6

Ignis inventoried his ingredients. Everything seemed to be in order. He’d made sure there was enough for Noct, Gladio, Iris, himself and…

He sighed, knowing that Prompto wouldn’t stay for dinner. The blond hadn’t stayed with them for a proper evening meal at the Citadel in almost a week and a half, and yet Ignis couldn’t help but make extra for the youth – _just in case._

Setting to work chopping vegetables, the Prince’s Advisor let his thoughts stray back to the young Argentum. 

For the most part, Prompto had remained his jubilant, bubbly self, but Ignis had, as of late, noted a few subtle changes. His laugh wasn’t quite as loud or as long as it once was, and he chimed in just a little less in conversations. Perhaps Ignis was mistaken, but he doubted it. His instincts were telling him something was amiss.

But Ignis hadn’t had long to continue his ponderings before his solitude was broken.

Noct trudged into the dining area, alone. The Prince gave his Advisor one miserable glance before he slunk over to the table, yanked his history book out of his schoolbag and plopped down.

Pausing a moment, Ignis almost inquired as to how the evening training went, but he recognized that mood that hung over Noctis. Jaw clenched, brow furrowed, gaze threatening to bore a hole through whatever it set itself upon. The Prince needed time to compose himself and get his emotions in check. Ignis knew it would be for the best not to engage him quite yet.

Clearly, the training session with Gladio hadn’t gone well.

For the next twenty minutes, Noct studied, or pretended to study, as Ignis continued cooking. The silence was uncomfortable – it had been so ever since Prompto started departing from their company so early in the evenings.

Ignis sighed, missing his days of peaceful, tranquil quiet, not this tense silence that felt weighted with loss and resentment. On second thought, perhaps the evenings with Prompto around hadn’t been quiet, per say, but the ecstatic chatter, no matter how incessant, was better than this suffocating, anger laden silence.

Gladio, hair wet from his after-training shower, silently entered the room. His eyes darted from Ignis to Noctis. 

The Prince looked up, steely wrath now directed fully at his Shield. Without a word, Noctis stood, snatched up his history book and schoolbag and stormed out of the dining area. Gladio watched with a weary gaze.

With Noctis gone, Ignis finally spoke. “I take it that something has His Highness in a foul mood. Perhaps, this has to do with Prompto?”

Gladio gave a low grumble as he sat down at the table. “My, you are perceptive. What could have possibly given away the fact that the little princess was mad at me again?” 

_Oh Astrals, this was going to be a difficult evening…_

“What happened?” Ignis asked. He found it best, when Gladio was in a bitter mood, to keep his inquires as direct as possible.

“Prompto…” Gladio signed, closing his eyes for a moment as he leaned back in his chair. “He just…he did so well training that first day, and then he slowly got worse. His energy level keeps dipping. He’s distracted, clumsy and…well…it started to feel dangerous to keep pushing him.”

The impact of what Gladio was saying hit Ignis hard.

“So, you told him you couldn’t train him any longer.” 

Gladio looked back at Ignis and nodded. “Yeah, I hadn’t meant to tell him today. I know those two are excited about the Comic Expo tomorrow, and it was lousy timing on my part. It was just…Prompto slipped up so much today. He almost got himself hurt, like, seriously hurt, and…I reacted.”

That would certainly explain Noctis’ anger. 

“What’s done is done,” Ignis turned back to his cooking, hoping to hide his disappointment. Without the after school training would Prompto come to the Citadel at all any longer? Had he and Gladio managed to strangle Noctis’ new friendship?

“Noct argued with me like a madman. Kid would barely let me get a word in, so I made him leave.” Gladio shrugged. “I get why he was mad, but I just…if Prompto can’t give this his all…if he gets hurt, well, that would be on me.”

Ignis gave a soft hum of agreement. He certainly didn’t envy the position the Shield had been in that evening.

“He’s got a job,” Gladio said softly, “that’s where he goes every day. That’s why he leaves.”

Ignis paused, his spatula hovering over his skillet. It made sense, and he had suspected that might be the case, but, still, the revelation surprised him. _Why?_

Gladio gave one sharp, joyless chuckle. “The kid has been going to school, training with Noct, and working. He’s just tired. He came out and admitted it today – practically begged me to let him keep training if he quit his job.”

There was a swell of relief flooding Ignis, but he held his emotions in check. “And what did you tell him?” He asked, praying that Gladio would give him an answer he wanted to hear.

Gladio made a slight scoffing sound. “What do you think I told him?” He paused, his voice softening. “I told him I’d be happy to keep training him, _if_ he takes better care of himself…and maybe sticks around to eat dinner with us sometimes. I told him that we kinda miss him hanging around.”

For once, Ignis didn’t try to restrain or hide the smile that crept onto his visage. Turning to face Gladio, he gave a slight nod. “I’m pleased to hear that.” 

The Shield shifted uneasily and muttered something under his breath.

“I beg your pardon. What was that?” Ignis asked, smile widening.

“I’m not going soft!” Gladio growled. “Don’t think this is a regular thing. I’m not going easy on anyone after this.”

The Advisor’s laugh seemed to honestly startle Gladio, and, after seeing that indignant look cross the Shield’s face, Ignis stifled the sound.

“My apologies,” Ignis offered. “I found it humorous that you would assume I’d take this kind act as you slipping into a more lenient, gentler role. After all, you are still tormenting Prince Noctis by keeping him uninformed of your agreement with Prompto.”

Gladio gave a wicked grin. “Yeah, I hit my limit of _nice_ for one day. Plus, Noct deserves this after going off on me at training. I’m sure he’ll be texting Prompto soon enough and learning what went down. Then, maybe, he can feel like an idiot for a while.”

Ah, yes, there was the typical Gladio…

With a smirk, Ignis turned back to his cooking, humming quietly to himself as he started plotting what to prepare for dinner next week – when Prompto would once again be joining them.

*****************

Noctis flopped onto his bed, letting his history book fall to the floor. It didn’t matter. He hadn’t planned on reading anymore anyways. Why should he? None of it was sticking. He’d scanned the same paragraph at least thirty times while he’d been sitting in the dining area listening to Ignis cook, but he couldn’t retain a single thing.

The events of the evenings training surfaced again in Noctis’ mind. Gladio had no right to make a decision like that without consulting Noctis first. Feeling his anger building once again, Noctis pulled out his phone and started texting.

 

_**Noctis:** Hey_

_**Prompto:** Hey!_

_**Noctis:** I can’t believe Gladio…He’s such a jerk._

_**Prompto:** ?????? Um….no?_

_**Noctis:** What?!? Why no?_

_**Prompto:** Didn’t he tell you? I’m still gonna train with you. I just have to quit my job at the diner._

_**Noctis:** No, he didn’t tell me, so he’s still a jerk. Weren’t you going to quit in few days anyways?_

_**Prompto:** Yeah. The diner owner’s nephew is already working there now, so they really don’t need me. They’ll be fine, and Gladio’s right, I’ve been a mess during training. I need to quit. Plus I’ve got enough spending cash saved up to have some fun at Darkhouse._

_**Noctis:** Don’t you dare tell Gladio he was right. That’s all we’ll hear about for days._

_**Prompto:** Um…okay? But what if…I already did?_

_**Noctis:** Ugh…_

_**Prompto:** Almost to my bus stop. Last night of work! I’m so excited for Darkhouse!!! Since I know you’ll be asleep by the end of my shift…Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow!_

_**Noctis:** Bright and early. You’d better be ready or I’ll have Ignis start to blare on the car horn._

_**Prompto:** Yeah, you just worry about dragging your own butt out of bed. I’ll be fine! Night!_

_**Noctis:** Night._

 

Noct pocketed his phone and stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts wandering back to when he’d first learned of Prompto’s job at the diner.

It had taken two whole days of Prompto’s evening disappearances before Noctis had been able to pry the secret out of his friend. As reluctant as the blond had been to discuss the matter, Noctis’ badgering coupled with his palpable tone of concern and distress seemed to have broken Prompto.

So, Prompto told Noctis of his job, of how he wanted to save up some money so he wasn’t such a mooch.

Noct’s reaction, now that he thought back on it, probably wasn’t the support a friend should have offered.

Without hesitation, he told Prompto that taking on a job was stupid, that he didn’t need to save up money, that it was enough just to train and hang out at the Citadel, but the blond disagreed.

Prompto merely laughed and said it was a normal thing for a teen to have a job, and that there was nothing wrong with a little extra hard work. Noct groaned at that. It sounded way too much like something Ignis and Gladio would’ve said.

Still, Prompto swore Noct to secrecy, though the Prince had been tempted to let the secret out. Had Ignis and Gladio known sooner, they may have put an end Prompto’s tiring schedule. Then the Prince would have had his friend back in the evenings, but…

That would have been a breach of trust, and Noct couldn’t bring himself to do it. Plus, there had been a quiet, reserved desperation and sadness when Prompto admitted to having the job. It had taken Noct a while to decipher that, to realize that his friend didn’t have all the privileges that he had, and, for as much as it hurt, Noct had to accept that this was a part of life.

“Noct.” 

Startled, he sat up, casting a glare at the door and finding Iris standing there. She stiffened, eyes going wide, nervous smile held in place. Seeing the young girl’s hesitation, Noct softened his expression, offering her a small, but genuine smile.

“Ignis wanted me to tell you that dinner is done,” she offered. “It smells really good.”

“Thank you, Iris,” he said, hauling himself off his bed. “It better not be all vegetables.”

Iris grinned. “Is half vegetables okay?”

Noct grumbled and followed Iris into the hall, but, his grouchiness was all show this time. His intent, which he succeeded at, was to hear Iris' easygoing laughter as they made their way to the kitchen.

***********

Arriving at the diner, Prompto went straight to the owner, Billy. 

A short, round and hairy man, Billy had a face with a resting expression of pure disgust, but, in reality, he was one of the kindest, honest and most caring guys Prompto had ever known.

“Uh, Billy?” Suddenly Prompto’s mouth felt dry, and his heart started heavily thumping in his chest. He’d never quit a job before. Even if he was sure this would be amicable, he felt a tinge of fear. “I…um…I can’t keep working at the diner. I’m sorry. I know I said I’d stay on through part of next week, but…”

A sharp laugh and Billy’s hand gently slapping his shoulder made the blond go silent.

“Kid, you don’t have anything to worry about, alright?” Billy smiled, his eyes squinting, twinkling with his gentle cheerfulness. “I can tell you’ve been working yourself to exhaustion, and I’ve got my nephew, Patrick, to help out now. You just take care of you, okay?”

Prompto grinned, but then a new worry settled over him. “Can I still work tonight? Is that okay?” He’d needed these last few hours to pad his paycheck up just enough to pay his water bill. If he lost this shift, he’d have to dip into the small pool of money he’d set aside for the Darkhouse Comic Expo.

“Kid,” Billy laughed, “the staff would have my hide if I sent you away tonight. They all want to get in their goodbye razzing. We’re gonna miss you around here. You’ll have to stop by every once and a while and visit, okay? Get a piece of pie on the house and all – for old time’s sake.”

Prompto’s facial muscles actually started to ache as they strained to support his beaming smile. “Thanks, Billy. You’re the best!” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Billy chuckled, his tone gruff but playful. “Now, get to work. Those dishes aren’t going to cart themselves to the kitchen.”

In a flash, Prompto had donned his apron and was clearing tables. He fell into quick, easy snippets of conversation with the rest of the diner staff as he worked. He moved at a quick pace, clearing tables, washing dishes, cleaning, and, suddenly, his shift was over. The closing routine was finished, and the staff were saying their last goodbyes to Prompto as they slowly filed out.

“Here, kid,” Billy said, shoving a wad of cash and a paper carryout sack into Prompto’s hands. “It’s your pay and something to eat.” The man offered him a small crooked grin. “I made it myself. It’s Billy’s Special Chicken Burger and a large order of fries. I remember you saying you were going to that comic expo tomorrow, and I figured you should eat a good meal tonight…to get your strength up for all the fun you’ll be having.”

For a moment, Prompto stood, clutching the money and paper sack close to his chest, just staring at Billy. “I…I…don’t…It’s just…” Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and found the words he wanted to say. He looked back at Billy. “Thank you. Thank you for being so kind, for giving me a chance and helping me out. I appreciate all of that, and…and…I really liked working here.” 

Billy chuckled softly. “Hey, if you’re ever looking for work again, come see me, okay? But maybe not for shifts every night while you’re in school, yeah? I’d hate to see you wearing yourself down again. Now, go on, I gotta lock up and get home to the old ball and chain.”

After uttering one last goodbye, Prompto turned and headed out the door.

There was a strange stir of emotions surfacing in the young man. He both wanted to quit and didn’t. Already he knew he would miss the jovial banter and sense of teamwork he had become so accustomed to at the diner. He liked feeling included, useful, and needed. 

Ultimately though, he knew quitting was the right choice. Prompto had been considering it for days now. His grades had been suffering. He’d become a wreck at training. He wasn’t getting to see Noctis as much, and there was this fog of sleep deprivation that had started to cloud his thoughts, making the world around him a bit hazy.

In the dusky light of the evening, just at the streetlights were flickering on, Prompto stopped at this elderly neighbor’s house. From her living room window, Clara smiled and waved, and he was quick to return the gesture before setting to work hauling her yard waste bins out to the curb. 

It had taken some finagling, but he’d managed to convince Clara to leave the bins for him to haul if she would help him mend his school uniforms. Unfortunately, she was still a bit stubborn about trying to haul the empty bins in after the morning pick up, so he had to be diligent about getting to them before she did. Usually, that wasn’t an issue. He normally was just finishing up his paper routes when the truck was pulling up to their block. 

Finishing his task, he gave Clara one final wave before scooping up his bag of food and heading for his house. 

Lost in thought, he made his way inside to the kitchen and sat down to eat. He could feel the warm pull of exhaustion begging him to head toward his bed, but the angry growl from his stomach had barely managed to keep him from doing so. 

Munching away on fries, he shuffled through the bills spread out across the table. It was getting harder to keep up with them. If his parents didn’t come home soon, he’d have to make some decisions on which bills to pay and which to risk. 

In reality, he shouldn’t have been taking any of his funds to the comic expo, but he reasoned that it would look too odd if he couldn’t at least pay for his lunch. After all, the guys knew he’d been working at the diner. They would certainly find it odd if he had nothing to show for it. At least none of them knew about his paper routes though. 

He continued eating, finishing off the chicken burger but saving some of the fries. He put the leftover fries into the refrigerator. There wasn’t a lot left, but at least it would be something for breakfast. 

Prompto paused, peering into the frig. The harsh light of the appliance illuminated the few bottle of condiments and the single bag of fries. It looked absolutely pitiful.

With a sigh, he shut the door and started shuffling for the stairs. His stomach was in knots. It hadn’t been the meal. He knew that. What he felt was the twist of worry and panic that had been following him for the past couple of weeks.

His parents should have called by now. They traveled a lot, but they had never been his absent before. Something felt wrong, but there was nothing he could do. He just had to wait and hope they’d call soon, but this helplessness felt crushing. 

Hoping to distract himself, Prompto played half an hour of video games after he’d changed into his pajamas. His body ached and his eyelids felt weighted, but his mind kept racing, worrying, and filling itself with _‘what ifs.’_

Eventually, he turned off his game and stumbled to bed, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit his pillow.

He dreamt of Chocobos – millions of Chocobos, but they were small, only coming up to his waist when they stood. 

And they were adorable! 

Standing in the sea of yellow feathered creatures, Prompto would scoop one up, pet it gently and laugh at each tiny _‘kewh’_ the miniature bird uttered. 

Suddenly, a giant Chocobo appeared. Its squawk was a loud, grating sound that made Prompto flinch. He grimaced up at the beast, but it continued to open its beak, letting out a repetitive series of horribly sharp _‘kewhs.’_

Prompto tried to calm the bird, to get it to quiet, but it ignored him.

Then, Prompto woke. His mind fuzzily trying to figure out where the giant Chocobo was, until he realized the horrible squawk was coming from his phone. 

It was his alarm.

A shiver of panic ran through him as he pawed his phone off his nightstand. One glance and he knew he’d messed up. It’d been going off for over half an hour. He was late.

Leaping out of bed, he changed into the first outfit he could pull together – a pair of jeans and a dirty, blue t-shirt, and then he sprinted down the stairs. There wasn’t time for breakfast. He could eat when he got back from the paper route. He only hoped he’d have time to shower and change as well. 

He locked up the house and got his bike out of the shed. The last thing he grabbed was his yellow Chocobo helmet. It was a goofy thing, with tiny wing fins on the side, and Prompto knew his tuffs of blond hair sticking out only made it more comical, but he loved it nonetheless.

After putting on his helmet, he jumped on his bike and raced down the road. It was still fairly dark out. The eastern horizon was just barely aglow with hints of the coming dawn. 

Prompto skidded to a halt at the designated meeting corner for the paper boys. His pile of papers was all that greeted him. Everyone else must have made their pick-ups already. 

He loaded up his satchels, trying not to stagger under the weight, and then he mounted his bike again. Once he had a feel for the balance he needed with the added papers, he took off. 

Legs pumping, heart pounding, Prompto flew through his first route. By the second, he was struggling. His muscles burned, his breath was strained and sharp. He’d never pushed himself this hard, but it wasn’t like he had much choice. He had to make it back home to get cleaned up before Noct and the others arrived to pick him up. 

He pushed on, his brain functioning on autopilot as he moved through the familiar route. The satchels were light now, almost empty. Prompto smiled to himself. There were only three houses left. He had made excellent time. He would be able to get in a shower and…

Turning a corner, his front wheel hit a loose patch of gravel and the world became a blur. Suddenly, there was only confusion and pain.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, so I'm home sick today, and between rounds of sleeping, I worked on this chapter! It seems to be at an okay stopping point for posting...so I'm going for it! Now you don't have to wait a week!

He shouldn’t have been riding so fast. He’d known that corner had loose gravel–that it would be so easy for a bike to lose control there. Why hadn’t he slowed down? This only happened because he wasn’t paying attention. This was _his_ fault…

With eyes squeezed shut, as if that would drown out the pain, Prompto lay on his side. The hard, cold concrete beneath him was sapping the warmth from this body, and the world seemed to have gone silent save for the sound of his own ragged breathing and the pounding of his heart. 

Internally, something whispered at him to move, to start assessing the damage done, but fear held him still. He didn’t want to know how bad it was.

Overwhelming shockwaves of pain radiated from his right leg and left arm. He knew he had other injuries as well, but those pains were dulled by his more severe wounds. 

He coaxed himself into opening his eyes, and was distressed to find his vision momentary clouded by adrenaline and agony. It passed, but the initial panic stayed with him. 

Should he move? _Could_ he move?

He vaguely remembered giving out a muffled yell as he fell. Maybe someone had heard him. Perhaps they would come to help. He hoped so, but the minutes slipped by and the chill of the morning forced Prompto to try to move.

He slowly pushed himself up, taking care not to put any pressure on his left arm. Sharp, excruciating bouts of pain flared through his body as he maneuvered himself into a sitting position. 

His right leg was slightly tangled in the bike frame. 

Prompto was relieved to find no bone extruding from the limb. There may have been breaks – okay, he was sure there were broken bones, but nothing had lacerated through the skin, so he didn’t have to see the ugliness of it. He really didn’t think he could handle that at the moment. 

The process of freeing himself from the mangled bike was slow. He had to stop frequently to allow himself a moment to breath, to let the throbbing pain subside slightly. 

Eventually he was free, his mind scrambling to decide what action to take next. He glanced around, finding a newspaper lying nearby along with one of the Chocobo wings from his helmet and his cellphone.

  
He picked up the paper first, although he wasn’t sure why that seemed like a priority. Mechanically, he placed it in the satchel still hanging across his shoulder, and when he realized what he’d done, Prompto gave a soft chuckle. Maybe it was stupid to laugh while he lay on the ground injured, but he just couldn’t help but see the ridiculousness in a paperboy instinctively reaching first for his papers.

Next he retrieved his phone, and was dismayed to find the screen shattered. It was lit up but frozen beneath a spider web of cracks on the lock screen. Prompto tried turning the device off, but it wouldn’t respond. If he wasn’t starting to tremble so badly, he might have tried pulling the battery out and putting it back in.

_I can’t afford to fix this…_

That thought struck him suddenly. Then he realized that he wouldn’t be able to afford the hospital bill that was sure to come either, and, after a fall like this, he’d probably have to take it easy for a while. He wouldn’t be able to continuing working, and that meant no income to pay the bills. 

He tried to swallow down the lump of despair growing in his throat, but it did no good. A sense of helplessness and defeat was engulfing him, and he gave in, feeling warm tears trickle down his cheeks. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t fix any of this. 

_And I’ll have to miss Darkhouse as well…_

For a couple minutes, he sat, quietly crying, taking in little shivers of breath between sobs.

_Get it together, Prompto. You’re stronger than this…_

With the back of his right wrist, he wiped his eyes and choked back any further tears. He may have been able to halt his crying, but his misery remained. 

All the excitement and anticipation he’d manage to build up over the last couple of weeks for the Darkhouse Comic Expo was now a stone weighing heavily in his chest. The disappointment only grew as he realized that he may have ruined more than just his day. He’d probably ruined Noct, Ignis and Gladio’s day as well. 

The guys could still go to the expo. He wanted them to go, but would they? 

He toyed with his phone again, trying desperately to send a message to Noct. Maybe he could tell the guys he’d gotten sick or something? He would tell them to go without him. They might be okay with that – as long as he didn’t make it sound like he was dying or anything. 

But, the phone refused to cooperate. 

Prompto shrugged, pocketed his phone and glanced up and down the sleepy street one more time, hoping to see an early morning jogger or someone out retrieving their paper. There was no one.

Uncertain of what to do next, he tentatively surveyed his injuries further. 

His right leg was throbbing, the pain radiating from the lower part of the limb – near his ankle. His pants were torn at both knees and the edges of the frayed fabric was slick with blood. He shifted a little, wincing with the movement, but he was able to see the wet, red wounds on each knee. Those injuries, though ugly, were minor. It was a little road rash–just the concrete and gravel giving him a little, painful kiss as he had tumbled along during his fall.

He kept exploring himself for wounds, finding a small bleeding patch of skin on his right elbow and a larger one extending from his left elbow to his wrist on his left arm. 

Experimentally, he tried to move his fingers on his left hand, but pain instantly flared through his arm. He couldn’t tell for sure what was broken, but there was certainly _something_ wrong with the limb.

_What do I do now?_

Uncertainty hounded him. He could start yelling for help. Surely someone in the neighborhood would hear him. Or, he could limp over to one of the houses and knock on the door. The occupant would either help him or let him use their phone. 

There was one more option – one that he knew he shouldn’t choose, but it was what he felt drawn to do.

His house was only three blocks away. If he used his bike as a crutch, he was pretty sure he could make the trek. 

It was probably a bad idea to move. He knew he should stay put, and yet…

Prompto set to work slowly getting his shaky self to his feet…well, foot. Placing any weight on his right leg was obviously not going to work. Sharp gasps escaped him as he moved, but he held his urge to yelp in pain at bay. There was no need in waking up the neighborhood. He could manage this on his own.

Once he was up, wobbling unsteadily on his left leg, he carefully bent over and set his bike upright. Cradling his left arm to his chest, he used his right to lean on the bike. Then, he started limping along, surprised at how well the process was working. It was a little tricky steering the bike while leaning so heavily against it, but Prompto managed.

When he’d made it about a half a block, he glanced back, seeing a lone spot of blood and one tiny, plastic Chocobo wing were he’d fallen. 

_Well, that’s going to be a confusing find for someone this morning._

He shrugged and turned back, starting to slowly move in the direction of his house once again.

Eagerly, he let his mind wander to video games, school, the arcade…anything that wasn’t the current pain he was in. 

Blinking, Prompto suddenly realized that he’d stopped – that the bike was gently leaning against his side and his free right hand had snaked into his satchel…searching. He pulled out a newspaper and stared at it a moment. 

_What…am I doing?_

He looked up, suddenly understanding. It was one of his delivery houses. Prompto tossed the paper toward the property, letting out a low hiss of pain with the movement. 

“I guess the other two are on my way as well…” He said to himself. “Might as well finish the job I started. This could be my last paycheck for a bit.”

After giving himself a moment to rest, he continued on, pausing his progress only to gently toss the next two papers toward their intended houses. 

By the time he’d reached his house, his body felt heavy, weighted by exhaustion, but he still, rather absentmindedly, put his bike and helmet back in the shed before hopping toward his front door. 

Fumbling with his key, his right hand shook as he struggled. More than anything, he wanted to sit down and hide himself away from the world. He didn’t want to deal with any of this. It was too much. He’d messed up too much.

Eventually, he was able to get the door open and make his way inside. 

Nearly out of breath, he made his way to the sofa, and, for as much as he wanted to plop down and shut his eyes, he knew that kind of forceful movement would only be rewarded with pain. 

Cautiously, with great care, he eased himself into a sitting position on the couch and slowly leaned back. 

His sensible side advised him to retrieve the first aid kit and tend to his injuries, but the reality was that the kit was upstairs, and he wasn’t convinced he could make the climb.

Prompto closed his eyes. Sleep was out of the question. Too much pain still flared through him, but it was nice to just sit, to have a moment to himself in the safety of his house.

A loud knock at the door had him jumping, eyes popping open, sharp breath coming as his body protested over his sudden movements.

“Prompto? Come on, kid. We’re going to be late.” Gladio’s voice bellowed from outside. “Get a move on. Don’t want to keep his royal crabbiness waiting. He’s had a hard morning of having to be awake.” 

Prompto opened his mouth, but he couldn’t decide how to respond. What should he tell Gladio? To go away – to go to Darkhouse without him? Or should he tell them he needed help? He wanted help. He did, _but…_

In the end, he chose silence as his answer. 

Leaning back into the soft folds of the couch, he was prepared for the next round of knocks that sounded. 

“Prompto, hurry up…” There was a tinge of exasperation in Gladio’s voice. 

After a sort span of silence, two more voices joined the Shield’s, but the conversation they had was muffled, obviously not intended for him.

Prompto flinched as his pocket erupted into a chorus of distorted Chocobo _‘kwehs,’_ and he scrambled to pull his phone out and silence it, but the darn thing was still frozen on the lock screen.

“I can hear your ringtone,” Noct hollered. “I know you are in there. Stop messing around and come on.”

His phone suddenly went silent.

“If you don’t open up this door, I’ll have to break it down,” Gladio added, “on the Prince’s orders, of course.”

There was a soft click, and Prompto sank a little further into the couch as he heard the familiar creak of a hinge. It was then that he realized he’d forgotten to lock the front door.

“Or,” Ignis replied, his tone wry, his words clearly meant for Gladio. “We might just open the door and enter like rational people.” 

Prompt had sunk as far as he could into the couch. His back was to the doorway, and he knew all the guys could see of him were a few tuffs of blond hair. 

Almost forgetting to breathe, he listened to their footsteps as they approached. His stomach clenched, as a wave of emotions flooded through him. 

There was relief that he wouldn’t have to keep facing everything alone. Once they saw him, he’d have to tell them everything. 

_Everything…_

That brought fear and anxiety. He’d kept so much from them. None of them knew about the paper routes – not even Noct. Would they be angry? He’d basically lied to them by omission. 

Then, when they found out why he needed to work, what would they think of his parents? His mom and dad were good people. Prompto knew he meant the world to them. They were just…too good. Out saving the world one farm and forest at a time, they sometimes forgot to take care of themselves _and their son._

He hoped they were okay. 

“What the…?” Gladio’s voice was low, concerned, and Prompto was quick to look up at the man. The Shield was tense, fists clenched.

Noct stood back, eyes wide, fixed on his friend. It was Ignis who sprang forward, dropping to one knee, his attention darting across the visible wounds on Prompto.

“Who did this to you?” Gladio growled, already moving toward the kitchen, looking as if he truly needed to find someone to pummel. 

_So, the big guy wants to beat someone up for me, huh?_

A vision of Gladio punching his bike flashed through Prompto’s head, and he let out a sharp laugh. Apparently, judging by the alarmed stares the other three were giving him, that was not the response they’d expected.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Thanks for all the comments on the last chapter! I'm feeling much better now (blasted tonsils like to act up). I thought this chapter would progress a bit further in the story line, but it decided to set its own pace. So, sorry about that. Also, I thought it would be a bit longer, but I had a couple of surprise functions this week and ran out of writing time. Ah, such is life! I'm thinking this story will go on beyond the chapter count I had first envisioned (as this chapter set a slower pace than I had originally planned), but I guess that isn't a horrible thing. *grins*

Ignis pulled up to Prompto’s house and glanced in the rearview mirror. 

Just as he expected, Noctis was sprawled out in the backseat sound asleep. Even with the thrill of the Darkhouse Comic Expo ahead of him, the young Prince hadn’t been able to overcome his morning lethargy. He was absolutely hopeless. 

And, of course, Prompto was nowhere to be seen.

“Gladio,” Ignis could hear the tension in his own voice, and he took a deep breath, resolving to remedy his tone.

From the passenger seat, Gladio glanced over. “Yeah, what?”

“Would you please go to the house and retrieve Prompto? I had presumed he’d be waiting curbside for us, but that, apparently, is not the case.”

A low grumble emitted from Gladio before he glared back at Noctis. For a moment, Ignis thought the Shield meant to wake the boy and make him go run the errand, but Gladio’s expression softened. 

“That kid sleeps too much…” Gladio muttered, opening the passenger side door and then hefting himself out of the car. “You know,” he said, pausing to slam the door shut and look back at Ignis through the open window. “It’s bad enough Noct has to drag us to this crowded, hyped up frenzy of an expo, but now we have to keep an eye on two flighty teens in a sea of distractions? This is _not_ what I signed up for.” 

Ignis smirked. “Isn’t it though?” 

The ugly scowl Gladio gave was all the answer provided before he turned and strolled up to the Argentum residence.

Of course, Ignis shared some of Gladio’s sentiments on this gathering – though he preferred not to vocalize them. As far as he was concerned, this was not an event the Advisor for the Prince should be attending. How was it a reasonable outing when he had far too many other more important matters to attend to? And yet Ignis endure this exasperatingly tiring comic expo every year…for Noctis. 

Gladio’s thunderous pounding on Prompto’s front door abruptly broke Ignis from his thoughts.

_Less than tactfully, as per usual, and I suppose I will be the one left to appease the neighbors when they are awoken._

In the backseat, probably roused by the noise, Noctis stirred.

“Where’s Prompto?” The Prince asked as he groggily sat up. 

“ _That_ ,” Ignis replied, “is precisely what Gladio and I would like to know. Have you been in contact with him this morning? I fear he might have overslept.”

Noctis shrugged. “I tried texting, but he never replied.”

That was odd. Prompto had rarely, if ever, gone more than a few minutes before responding to Noctis’ texts. Something certainly felt… _off._

“Prompto? Come on, kid. We’re going to be late.” Gladio hollered, “Get a move on. Don’t want to keep his royal crabbiness waiting. He’s had a hard morning of having to be awake.” 

Ignis watched Gladio shift his weight from one leg to the other as he glared at the door. The man’s patience was obviously already wearing thin, and they still had a _very_ long day ahead of them. 

_Oh Six, give me the strength to make it through this day…_

“I’m going out there.” Noctis had exited the car before his Advisor could react.

Begrudgingly, Ignis turned off the vehicle and pulled the keys from the ignition. Getting everyone into the car at the Citadel that morning had been a momentous struggle, and now it seemed as if he’d get that same pleasure all over again.

The most frustrating aspect of this endeavor was that he did not even desire to attend this accursed function, and yet he seemed to be the one trying the hardest to make this day a success. 

They were already woefully behind on the itinerary he’d come up with for the day. Honestly, he didn’t see how Noctis and Prompto had thought they were going to cram in all the events they had yammered on about throughout the last week – especially when they were so lackadaisical with sticking to schedules. 

_Well, it can’t be helped now…_

Exiting the car, Ignis made his way to the house, flinching slightly as Gladio pounded on the door once again. 

“Prompto, hurry up…” Gladio turned his gaze toward his two companions. “Now what?”

“Did you hear anything inside?” Ignis asked.

“Nope, not a thing,” Gladio replied and then looked to Noctis. “He’s your friend. Why don’t you try getting ahold of him?”

“I _did_ try texting him already,” Noctis huffed. “He didn’t respond.”

“Did you try actually _calling_ him?” Gladio countered. “You know, in like dialing and using your voice? I know it’s pretty old school, but it just might work.” The Shield turned to Ignis. “This is Prompto’s house, right? I haven’t been pounding on the wrong door, have I?”

“I assure you, this is Prompto’s dwelling.” Ignis calmly answered. “I’ve dropped him off enough times to know.”

Noct pulled out his cellphone and started fiddling with it.

From inside the house came a chorus of _‘kwehs’_ that was unmistakably coming from Prompto’s phone.

“I can hear your ringtone,” Noctis raised his voice as he faced the door. “I know you are in there. Stop messing around and come on.”

Ignis hadn’t missed the concern and anxiety in the Prince’s expression. Honestly, it was hard not to worry this point. This was all very unlike Prompto. 

“If you don’t open up this door, I’ll have to break it down,” Gladio added, “on the Prince’s orders, of course.”

Ignis arched a brow at the Shield.

_A threat, really Gladio?_

However, the tough act wasn’t deceiving Ignis. The large man wore a slight frown, and his eyes sparkled with that brotherly worry he normally held strictly for Iris and, at times, Noctis.

Before anyone had the chance to resort to property damage, Ignis tried the doorknob. To his surprise, as he had hoped someone had at least bothered to see if the entrance was locked, the knob turned.

“Or,” Ignis replied, giving Gladio a sharp glare as the door swung open. “We might just open the door and enter like rational people.” 

Gladio gave no answer, his eyes already scanning the front room of the Argentum’s house.

Ignis did the same, quickly spotting the couch that was turned away from them and the few tuffs of blond hair hinting at the furniture’s occupant. However, he felt no relief. 

Why hadn’t Prompto come to the door or answered his phone? Why would he remain on the couch, knowing that everyone was outside waiting for him? Surely he couldn’t have slept through the racket Gladio had made.

Slowly, they made their way into the living room.

As they rounded the oversized couch, Ignis spotted Prompto’s right leg first. It was stretched out, the knee, bloody and raw, peeking out from a large hole in the boy’s jeans. The sight immediately had Ignis tensing.

The boy’s left knee was injured in much the same fashion as his right, and as Ignis neared and was able to see more of the boy, he noted how Prompto cradled his left arm, and how splotches of blood and dirt decorated his t-shirt, pants and skin. 

Crimson coated his elbows, the wound worse on the left arm, and there was a small cut under his left eye. A smudge of blood from the cut coated his left cheek – obviously from Prompto wiping his face.

Brilliant blue eyes, rimmed with red, peered up at the three. Ignis, noting the redness, was sure the boy had been crying at some point, but, with injuries such as these, he didn’t blame the lad. 

Through it all though, Prompto managed to plaster a pained, lopsided grin on his face. It made Ignis’ heart break a little.

Nearly engulfed in the couch as he was, Prompto looked so small, so fragile. On a cushion beside the boy lay a cellphone. Its screen lit but terribly fractured, and Ignis had no doubt that the device was not functioning properly. Whatever had happened, the boy hadn’t been able to call for assistance.

“What the…?” Gladio’s voice was gruff, concerned.

Ignoring the Shield, Ignis stepped forward, lowering himself to one knee so that he could meet Prompto’s gaze at an even level. Behind him, he knew Noctis was locked in place, watching, waiting. The Prince had never been great at dealing with bloodshed – not after that terrible incident in his childhood.

“Who did this to you?” Gladio growled, his tone sharper than was necessary, but Ignis knew it was merely the man’s protective instinct surfacing. 

The sudden, harsh laugh that erupted from Prompto was not the response Ignis had foreseen, and judging by the look of horror on Noctis and Gladio’s faces, they had not been prepared for the outburst either.

That mirth that had unexpectedly flared to life in Prompto slowly dimmed, and his smile trembled before his mouth pulled itself into a tight frown.

“I fell off my bike…” The boy’s voice was a hoarse whisper, his gaze lowered, shoulders drooping. “I’m s-sorry.”

_Fell off his bike? What in the name of the Six was Prompto doing riding a bike at this hour?_

No, Ignis knew an interrogation at this point wouldn’t help. Prompto was obviously hurt and shaken and there was no need to make him feel any worse at the moment. They could get their answers later, after he’d been properly tended.

“What were you…” Gladio started, but Ignis cut him off.

“Prompto,” Ignis kept his voice soft but commanding, causing the blond to look up. “Do you have a first aid kit in the house?”

“Y-yeah…upstairs in the bathroom. It’s the first door on the left.”

Ignis nodded. “Noctis, go retrieve the kit for me.” 

It seemed to take moment for the Prince to register that he’d been given a task, but as soon as he did, he looked grateful for the guidance and started moving.

“Gladio would you…” Ignis began, but the sound of a truck in the roadway had Prompto abruptly sitting up, giving a hiss of pain at the movement. 

“The disposal truck is here,” Prompto groaned, moving as if he meant to get to his feet, but Ignis, placing a firm hand to the boy’s chest, held him to the confines of the couch.

“You’ll injure yourself further if you continue to walk around unassisted in this state,” Ignis chided, hoping the statement would calm the blond, or at least bring him to his senses.

Prompto stilled, but his pleading gaze fixed on Gladio. 

“Please, big guy, would you do me a solid? My neighbor, Clara, across the street, well…I bring in her bins for her, and if I don’t get out there right away after the truck comes, she does it, but she’s old, and she almost fell a while back, and I know it scared her, and…”

“Kid,” Gladio held up a hand, the motion silencing Prompto. “I’m on it, okay? Just let Iggy take care of you. No more wiggling around.”

The Shield’s response seemed to have the desired effect on Prompto, as the blond relaxed back into the couch. 

“Um, Gladio?” Prompto added, his voice sounding small, uncertain. “Could you, uh, you know, like button those top buttons on your shirt maybe, and try not to look so…so…scary?” The kid gave an apologetic, crooked grin as the Shield glared back at him. “Clara is just…old and alone, and you might be a bit much, you know?”

With a long drawn out huff, Gladio turned toward the door, his fingers working at the top buttons on his shirt. 

“You owe me for this, kid,” Gladio called back over his shoulder before he slipped out the door.

Prompto gave a content sigh, his smile shifting to the Advisor. It was still a tight, pained expression, but even so, Ignis felt a little better seeing the youth grin.

“I need to know what hurts.” Ignis said quietly. “Start with the injuries causing the most discomfort, please.”

The warmth and honest joy drained from Prompto’s smile, so that he was once again left with a hollow, pained grin held forcefully in place.

“My leg…my right leg… I think it might be broken…near the ankle. It was tangled in my bike when I fell. And…my left arm…I must’ve used it to brace myself when I first hit the ground. It might be broken too. I can’t move the fingers on my left arm without a lot of pain…and…I-I…um…” He paused at the reappearance of the Prince.

Noctis sprinted down the stairs and handed off the first aid kit. Taking the box, Ignis only hoped it was properly stocked.

“Thank you, Noct.” He said, quickly opening the kit and starting to sort through the supplies. “Now, can you go up to Prompto’s room and pack a bag? Make sure you get enough clothes to last him a week, and don’t forget his toiletries as well.”

No one moved, and Ignis could feel the heavy gaze of both of the boys on him. He took a moment from inventorying the first aid kit to glance up at them.

“Pack a bag?” Noctis asked.

“Enough clothes for a week?” Prompto whispered. “Why?”

“Noct…” Ignis caught the Prince’s gaze. “Please?”

“Sure, Iggy. I’m on it.” He paused though, eyes flickering over to Prompto.

“Just past the bathroom upstairs, it’s the next door on the left,” the blond offered, his smile tightening a bit further. “Try not to mess up my chaos. Okay, buddy?”

“I’ll try.” Noct replied as he made his way up the stairs and disappeared down the hall.

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the small sounds made by Ignis rummaging through the first aid kit. There were no potions in the kit, but that was to be expected. Few households could afford to keep the pricey potions on hand.

“Why is Noctis packing clothes for me?” Prompto asked, his voice no more than a weak whisper. 

“When Gladio and Noctis return, we shall all go to the Citadel.” Ignis looked up and, seeing that wash of uncertainty and fear in the boy’s gaze, he realized that his formal, rigid tone was probably less than comforting. “There is a medical wing within the building,” he added, carefully adding as much of a soothing quality as he could to his voice. “You’ll be properly cared for there, and you can remain in the guest chambers until you’ve healed fully. Judging by the fact we found you sitting here in the dark this morning, I would hazard to guess your parents are still away on business. Am I correct in that assumption?”

Frowning, the blond nodded sadly.

“I need to know, do you have any further injuries, save for the arm and leg and visible wounds? Did you hit your head during the fall?” Ignis asked. Mentally, he was chastising himself for not inquiring earlier about a possible head wound. 

“I lost a wing…” Prompto responded glumly, his gaze, distant and dull, was fixed on the floor in front of him.

_Lost a wing?_

Ignis frowned, pursing his lips, trying to decide if that was a definitive ‘yes’ or if it was some new slang the kids were using these days.

“On my helmet…” Prompto sputtered, as if he suddenly realized how ridiculous his lone statement had sounded. “It was on my Chocobo helmet. I must have hit my head, but I had my helmet on and…and so I just lost a wing, but my head is fine…I think.”

Ignis nodded. “All the same, we’ll have the medical staff give you a full examination when we get to the Citadel–just to be safe.” He paused, a new realization striking him. “I’ve read your medical files. Your childhood was remarkably free of major accidents or illness. You’ve never been given a potion before, have you?”

Prompto shook his head.

“The process…” Ignis continued, “…for a patient’s first treatment with a potion can be rather time consuming. Only small doses are given at first, to make sure a patient’s body doesn’t react badly. Few people have, in the past, had congenital birth defects or other disorders that sent them into shock as the potions tried to heal what could not be healed without first causing substantial damage.”

Pausing, Ignis noted the way Prompto was biting his lower lip, and how the boy’s brows were scrunched, his face pinched with worry. 

“There is no need for concern.” Ignis reassured him. “Only small doses are given at a time now for first time potion users, and you’ll be monitored for any adverse reactions before a further dosage is administered. Plus, very few have any ill effects from using potions. This is all just precautionary. I dare say it would have been beneficial if your parents had scheduled a set of appointments for potion introduction when you were much younger. Most people have already undergone this treatment, so that if they are seriously injured this is no longer a concern.”

Though Prompto was obviously still struggling with some degree of trepidation, he appeared to be somewhat more at ease after Ignis’ explanation. Satisfied that he’d managed to provide a minor degree of comfort, the Advisor turned his attention back to the medical supplies.

Finally, finding a pair of scissors in the kit, Ignis thanked the Six. 

“Prompto,” He waited until he had the boy’s full attention. “I’m going to cut off the legs of your pants, just above the knees. I apologize, but it will make treating your injuries much easier.”

A chuckle sounded. “Cool, I needed new shorts anyway.”

_A joke…of course…_

“This won’t hurt,” Ignis said softly as he began cutting up Prompto’s right pant leg, starting at the ankle and following the seam. When he’d gotten to just above the knee, he repositioned the scissors and cut horizontally, until he’d looped all the way around Prompto’s leg and the fabric came free. 

With the denim removed, the extent of the injury to the leg was more apparent. The knee was a red, oozing mess of blood and filth. Halfway down Prompto’s shin, the flesh was red and purple, and his skin glistened with the tautness caused by the swelling. It looked remarkably painful. 

“I’m going to take off your right shoe and sock,” Ignis warned, “I will be as gentle as possible, but this will probably hurt.”

Biting his lower lip, Prompto merely nodded.

With the utmost care, Ignis undid the boy’s laces. He could hear the pained shuddering breaths Prompto took, but he kept his eye on his work. If he halted, if he looked up and glimpsed the expression of agony that was surely crossing Prompto’s face, then he might not be able to do what was needed. 

Laces undone, Ignis slid the shoe off, eliciting a yelp from the young man.

“Almost done…”Ignis whispered, though he wasn’t sure if he meant that as a comfort more for Prompto or himself. 

The sock came off easier, revealing a slightly purple, swollen foot.

Task complete, Ignis finally looked up.

Eyes drawn tightly shut, cheeks streaked with tears, Prompto sat hunched, silently cradling his left arm. 

“Prompto?” Ignis leaned forward, reaching out an uncertain hand, not sure if he should risk touching the boy just yet, but the Advisor wanted so badly to offer some form of comfort.

“Y-yeah…” Prompto sniffled, and then he scrubbed his eyes with his right hand before looking up and giving Ignis a wretched grin. “I’m fine…it just…it was just…you know…but, I’m fine now.”

_I find that hard to believe._

Ignis reached over and careful settled a hand on Prompto’s right shoulder, and, after seeing that the touch caused no pain or distress, he gave a soft, hopefully comforting, squeeze.

“I’m going to cut the other pant leg off.” The Advisor said. “Is that okay? It won’t hurt.”

“Sure…” Prompto replied and gave a sickly sounding chuckle. “I-I dig a more s-symmetrical look anyway…”

Ignis sighed.

_More jokes…_

The second pant leg was removed easily, just as the first had been.

“I’m sorry…about the Darkhouse Expo.” Prompto tried forcing a smile, but couldn’t seem to manage it this time. “You guys could still go. Maybe you could just leave me at the Citadel and…”

“I highly doubt that will happen.” Ignis felt badly for interrupting, but he would not let the boy continue with that train of thought. It was as if Prompto didn’t realize how important he was to Noctis – and the rest of them. “Gladio and I don’t entirely have a fondness for the expo, so we are hardly saddened that we shall be not be able to attend. Noct has gone every year since he was six. I dare say the event has become a bit boring even for him. His greatest excitement this year lay in the fact he was going to share this expo with _you._ ”

Prompto bowed his head and gave a soft sigh. “I’m sorry.”

Ignis stood. “Accidents happen. The important thing now is to see that you are properly cared for. I’m going to the kitchen to retrieve some moist towels to clean your wounds and ice for the swelling. Will you be okay by yourself for a couple of minutes?” 

A faint nod was the only answer given. It was a less than reassuring response, but Ignis felt it cruel to push the boy for more.

Still feeling hesitant, Ignis gave Prompto one last glance before he slipped into the kitchen. 

He fumbled for a light switch, and after finding one, he surveyed his surroundings. The room was clean, decorated with the same tastes as the living room had been. Pictures, probably taken by Prompto, adorned all the walls. They had been painstakingly framed, and, though there was a lot of them, it didn’t feel like an overload. 

Ignis examined a few. 

There was one of Prompto and his parents at an aquarium. They were making crazy faces as they stood in front of the octopus tank. Another was of Prompto’s mother and father making snow angels, but they’d paused in the task to hold hands. Lying still, cheeks pink, grinning up at the photographer, they looked so happy.

Reminding himself of the urgency of his task, Ignis pulled himself away from the wall of photos and hurried to the refrigerator. 

Regrettably, there was little ice to be found in the freezer. Actually, there was very little of anything to be found in the freezer. He retrieved a single tray of ice. It would hardly suffice, but it was better than nothing.

Curious, Ignis opened the refrigerator and peered inside. Besides the few meager condiments that were housed there, he found only a greasy takeout bag that had about ten french-fries in it. 

Holding the single, partially filled ice tray in hand, Ignis closed the refrigerator and moved to the cupboards. He found only spices and single can of tomato paste.

Ignis’ stomach turned. 

_How long?_

He leaned his head against an open cupboard door, the bare shelves staring back at him.

_How long had Prompto been living like this? How often has he gone to bed hungry?_

Once again, he set himself into motion, starting his search for a plastic bag to put the ice in. His thoughts kept returning though to images of Prompto sitting alone in this house, hungry and tired. Meanwhile, the rest of them were at the Citadel, feasting. How had they not noticed? How had Ignis let this happen? He was supposed to know everything about Noctis’ friends. How had he missed this?

Finding a small plastic bag, Ignis turned to the table to transfer the ice from the tray to the bag. He had just started the process when his gaze strayed to the papers spread out across the table. 

One of the top pages was a loose piece of notebook paper covered with Prompto’s scrawled handwriting. It held a series of simple math problems and short sentences. At first Ignis assumed it was some of the boy’s homework, but, upon closer inspection, he realized most of the papers scattered around the single notebook page were bills.

Though he’d normally held disdain for invasions of privacy, such as reading another’s mail, Ignis found it justified in this instance to investigate. 

Picking up the notebook page, he frowned at the numbers and shorthanded explanations attached to each. 

It was a breakdown of bills, grocery funds and money for the expo. Prompto listed paychecks from the diner and two separate paper routes, and he had carefully listed where those funds were to go. Most went to bills, a very small portion when to the expo, and an even more pitiful amount when to groceries. 

_Paper routes?_

That was why the young man had been on his bike so early in the morning.

A hollow inescapable guilt settled over Ignis as he set the paper down. The memory came back to him of that pained look on Prompto’s face the day the boy had overheard Gladio and he talking about how Noctis needed to curb his spending on his new friend – how it would be good to hold back to ensure Prompto was there for the right reasons.

All the while, this was what the boy was coming home to, and Prompto just kept smiling – kept trying so hard to appear as if nothing was wrong.

Rubbing his temple, Ignis let out one long, low sigh. He couldn’t change what had been done and said in the past, but he was going to fix this. He was going to make things right. 

*******

Prompto sat on the couch, focusing on his breathing. 

_Slow, easy… in and out…_

He couldn't help but think that Ignis had been gone too long, and Noctis too had been upstairs a long time. A shiver ran through him.

What were they doing? What did they find? 

He felt too exposed with the guys here, wandering through his house. Heck, Noct was digging through his room, packing a bag for him, and that felt as awkward as all getup. 

_Great, now Noct is going to see the crazy amount of Chocobo boxers I own…_

Still, Prompto found his embarrassment over Noct riffling through his possessions was dwarfed in comparison to the worry he felt over what Ignis had found in the kitchen. 

Maybe he hadn’t noticed the empty frig and cupboards? Maybe he missed the stack of bills on the table?

Prompto closed his eyes and leaned his head back. Exhaustion was overtaking him. His leg had a deeper, continual throb ever since Ignis took the shoe off, but there was a new tinging in the foot as well, as if the blood was flowing just a little better than it had been before.

“Hey.”

Forcing his lids to open was harder than Prompto had thought it would be, and he felt a stab of panic at that. Tilting his head forward, he found Gladio looking down at him. There was a gentle, worried smile on the Shield’s face as he crouched down in front of Prompto.

_When did he get back?_

“You okay?” Gladio asked.

Habit had Prompto opening his mouth, ready to spill out the stock answer of _‘I’m fine,’_ but he caught himself, pausing to really consider the question. As the seconds slipped by and he remained silent, the strained smile melted from Gladio’s face.

Tired, hungry, afraid…in pain…Prompto couldn’t maintain his act any longer.

“No,” he answered. “I’m not.”


	9. Chapter 9

Gladio was exhausted. The old woman had been a handful.

First, Clara had hurried out to the street corner, screaming at him for trying to _steal_ her yard waste bins. She acted as if the blasted things were made of gold instead of hard plastic that smelled of moldy lawn clippings. 

In fact, she’d managed to give Gladio a few good whacks with her cane before he choked out that he was a friend of Prompto’s, and that the kid had sent him over to _help_ her.

Even then, Clara kept her distance, scrutinizing him and keeping her little, black cane at the ready.

He’d barely managed to get the bins halfway to the house when she gave a loud, dramatic gasp. Apparently, she’d suddenly recognized him as the Shield to the Prince. Excitedly, she explained that she’d seen his picture in some newspaper articles.

And did that result in an apology for the cane strikes? 

Nope. In fact, besides looking rather pleased with herself for recognizing him, Clara didn’t seemed fazed at all by the discovery. The woman didn’t care one blasted bit that she’d just struck the Shield to the Prince.

Actually, he kind of liked her more for that. She was a feisty old bird.

After setting the bins precisely where Clara instructed him to, Gladio turned to leave, but the old woman was quick to ask for his help changing a light in her kitchen. She’d get it herself, she said, but that meant getting on the stepstool, and it was so wobbly. Gladio, she noted, was so tall, he could probably reach the light without having to stand on anything. 

One task, however, morphed into another and then another. 

Gladio considered excusing himself, mentioning that he had an urgent matter to attend to, but he couldn’t seem to draw himself away from the tasks Clara needed, and, honestly, Ignis had a much better bedside manner than he did. If the guys needed him, they could call. 

A thread of guilt sprang to life, as he knew a part of him desperately wanted to avoid seeing Prompto in such pain. It was…too much, and Ignis really could handle the situation for a while.

Meanwhile, Clara prattled on, explaining that Prompto usually did these tasks for her when he came over, that she’d be lost without him. She had _a lot_ to say about Prompto. It seemed she’d taken a real shine to the boy. 

She spoke about how his parents were good people, but their passion for humanitarian work had them traveling too often. Her exact phrasing was something along the lines of ‘they are bleeding hearts – out to fix the world and too busy doing such to see that they are needed at home.’ 

Clara shook her head sadly, saying that Prompto, for all his smiles and cheerfulness, had to be such a lonely boy.

In a rare moment when Gladio was able to chime in during the conversation, he mentioned that Prompto had become rather good friends with Prince Noctis, but Clara hardly seemed shocked. 

“Hmph, well…good, I guess,” she replied, “I just hope that prince fellow treats him well. Prompto is a good boy, and I’d hate to see him get hurt hanging around those wealthy, noble types.”

Gladio nodded politely, and decided against admitting he, himself, might be lumped in that group.

It was then that she asked why Prompto hadn’t come over that morning, and though Gladio was hesitant to upset her, he found that he didn’t much want to lie to Clara. So, he told her that Prompto had fallen from his bike and was being patched up by the Prince’s Advisor. 

Clearly concerned, she was eager to offer help, but he was quick to turn her down, stating that Ignis had a lot of first aid training. Clara was rather silent after that and asked no more favors of him, other than that he tell Prompto that she was thinking of him and hoped he recovered quickly from his fall. 

Just before Gladio left, the old woman slipped him a little metal tin. 

He opened it to find half a dozen small, black, puckered cookies inside. 

Gladio actually cringed at the thought of attempting to taste one, but Clara didn’t seem to notice, and he was able to offer up his gratitude – only to have her frown and state the cookies weren’t for him. They were for Prompto, and she muttered that Gladio had better not keep them for himself.

Then she scooted him outside, leaving him blinking in confusion on her front stoop as she offered a hasty _‘thank you’_ for his help and then shut her door.

_What an odd woman…_

Carrying the tin back to the Argentum house, Gladio chuckled to himself as the cookies rolled and clattered in their case, sounding like an assortment of pebbles in an empty soup can.

He felt proud of the kid. It was odd to feel that way for someone he’d known for just a little over a month, but he did. Even with how busy he’d been, Prompto still found the time to help those around him. He just genuinely seemed to _want_ to be helpful.

Gladio hadn’t failed to notice how the kid always offered to help Ignis set a table or clear away dishes or help put away the training weapons at the end of their sessions.

Clara was right – Prompto was a good kid…

…and now he was hurt, and Gladio couldn’t help but feel as if he were partly to blame for that.

If he and Ignis hadn’t been so quick to put up walls, to be at the ready to sever any friendship that _might_ negatively impact their Prince, perhaps Prompto wouldn’t have been so afraid to ask for help. Just to prove he wasn’t there for the benefits of befriending royalty, the poor kid had been working himself to exhaustion, afraid to speak up, afraid that Ignis and Gladio would turn him away. 

Falling off a bike this early in the morning? Yeah, that had baffled Gladio briefly at first, and then he recalled Ignis mentioning the kid had a paper route. Of course, Prompto hadn’t told them about it. They’d discovered it early on through Ignis’ research on the boy, but, somehow, the Advisor and Shield had forgotten that Prompto was getting up at the crack of dawn each day for his paper route. That, coupled with school, training and working at the diner? 

_Six, how did the kid manage to keep going, let alone doing so with a smile?_

Quietly, Gladio slipped back into Prompto’s house, surprised to find only the blond in the front room. 

Prompto had leaned back into the couch, his eyes closed, face pinched in pain. From just above the knee down, his pant legs had been removed along with his right shoe and sock. Gladio’s attention fixed on the swollen, angry skin of the kid’s right leg. It looked far worse than Gladio expected. 

“Hey,” he said, instantly regretting stirring Prompto from his stillness. It probably would have been far kinder to remain quiet, to let the boy rest a moment.

Prompto’s eyelids weakly fluttered open, his gaze glossy and a bit dazed at first. He tilted his head forward and looked up at the Shield, but stayed silent.

Gladio crouched down in front of the couch, hoping that he seemed less intimidating no longer looming over the youth. He tried to plaster a smile on his face, for reassurance, but it felt forced and muddled with worry.

“You okay?” Gladio asked, though he knew, just from seeing the injuries, the kid was far from okay. Still, if he knew Prompto at all, he was sure the boy would try and downplay his hurt.

The blond opened his mouth, but still nothing came out. He looked uncertain, lost. His chin quivered ever so slightly. 

“No,” Prompto answered at last. “I’m not.”

The answer hit Gladio like a weight. He felt it press him with guilt and worry, and he wanted to do something…anything, but there was no one to fight, no battle that needed winning, and Prompto…well…he wasn’t Iris. 

Gladio couldn’t just scoop him up into his arms and offer him comfort. Part of him wanted to, but it wasn’t his place – not yet. He didn’t know the boy well enough for that. Still, he couldn’t help but feel that Prompto needed someone there for him.

“Where are your parents?” The questions came out more abruptly than Gladio had intended. It almost had an accusatory factor to it that made the Shield cringe a bit. Honestly, it was an unfair question. Gladio pretty much knew the answer already. They would, undoubtedly, be away on business.

“How long have they been gone this time, Prompto?” Ignis asked softly as he entered the room. In his arms he carried a plastic bag full of ice cubes, a small pile of papers and a stack of wet dishcloths. “I see that you’ve been taking care of the bills yourself for some time now. That would be why you’ve taken on two paper routes and the job at the diner. Your parents, have you heard from them lately?” 

_Two paper routes?_

Gladio frowned, his guilt growing by leaps and bounds.

His gaze turned downward, Prompto shook his head slowly. There was such stark sadness and misery painting the boy’s expression. Gladio hadn’t thought the usually chipper youth could even be capable of looking that dejected. 

“They’ve been gone…like…three months now.” Prompto paused, his breath catching, sounding as if he were fighting back tears. “I-I got a postcard from them a couple of weeks ago, but it was dated from a week before, so I h-haven’t heard from t-them in a l-long time…” With his eyes squeezed shut and face pinched, big doleful tears began to quietly streak down his face. “I…I-I think s-something happened to t-them…they’ve n-never gone this l-long without calling…” 

Ignis glided forward, setting his supplies aside, and Gladio shifted out of the Advisor’s way. Honestly, he was relieved to have Iggy back. He was confounded as to how to offer the boy comfort in any way that wasn’t extremely awkward.

“Hey,” Ignis’ voice was soft, and he placed a hand gently on Prompto’s right shoulder. “It will be okay, alright? We will take care of you and investigate the whereabouts of your parents. They will be found. I promise.”

Prompto gave a weak nod, sniffled and wiped the tears from his face. 

“I…I’m sorry…” the boy muttered, “…for being so much trouble.”

“Hey,” Gladio said, careful to keep his tone gentle this time. “You have nothing to be sorry about, okay? We are the ones who should be sorry. We made you feel like you couldn’t ask for help, but I need you know something.” He paused and let out a deep sigh. Hell, he wished he was better at this kind of thing. “This right here, this isn’t you trying to be greedy and gain anything by being Noct’s friend. Needing help is different. I’m sorry we made you feel like it would be too much trouble for us to help you. That is not what we meant to do at all.”

“We’ve grown quite fond of you,” Ignis added, “and would consider you to be our friend as well, and it is a bit distressing to see you exhausted and in pain. If given the chance, we would have gladly given our support to you to keep this situation from happening.”

“I’m sorry that we hadn’t been better friends to you,” Gladio continued. “Our duty to Noctis must always come first, but that doesn’t mean we have to shut other people out altogether. We just forget that sometimes. Will you forgive us?”

Prompto was quiet for a long while, and Gladio, who’d been so sure the boy would forgive them, now doubted the outcome.

“Yeah…of course.” Prompto’s voice sounded so low and hoarse, but brightened as he added, “thank you!” 

“Now,” Ignis said, “Let’s get you cleaned up a bit before Noctis comes back down. I believe he should be finished up packing shortly.”

“Yeah,” Gladio smirked, “unless he decided to take a nap.”

_Seriously, Noct should have been back by now…_

************************************

Noctis felt badly for leaving Prompto when he was obviously in so much pain, but he was no good when it came to giving first aid. His brain refused to function properly when he saw others hurting, feeding him only memories of the pain and bloodshed from the accident that had almost crippled him in his youth. Though it shamed him greatly, he was relieved that Ignis had sent him away. 

He pushed open the door to Prompto’s room and smiled at what greeted him. 

On the bed, sitting on a comforter with yellow feather print, was a large stuffed Chocobo. Prompto had obviously had the thing for a long time. It was a dull yellow, seemingly discolored with age. It had an odd expression on its face, as if it was both grinning and startled all at once.

On the walls, above the bed, there was a poster for a Chocobo ranch. The colorful image on the poster was of a Chocobo Chick standing on a bale of hay.

There were a few other posters adorning the walls. One was for King’s Knight and another was for a band Prompto was particular fond of, although Noctis hadn’t thought they were anything that special.

What really drew Noctis’ attention though were the various corkboards on the walls. Each was filled with pictures.

The first one Noctis examined mainly had pictures of animals, flowers, insects, sunsets and sunrises. Each was interesting, and pleasing to the eye, but, for some reason, they reminded the Prince of Prompto, long ago, pudgy and quiet, wandering around with his camera clutched close to his chest. 

He moved on to the next board. It was filled with snapshots of Prompto and his parents. His mother, with auburn hair and brilliant green eyes, looked so incredibly happy in each photo. Her smile was soft and tender, and, in one picture in particular, she was looking at Prompto with such an expression of love. It made Noctis’ chest ache as he thought of his own mother and how much he missed having her in his life.

Prompto’s father, skinny with ears that stuck out comically far, had the goofiest grin plastered across his face for almost every photo. He looked like a man that loved to laugh, and who loved to spend time with his family.

Noctis moved on to the last board. This one had far fewer photos, but they had been very carefully arranged.

These were of Ignis, Gladio, Noctis and Prompto. After a few weeks, Prompto had been allowed to take photos at the Citadel and when they went on outings. One of the stipulations had been that Ignis had to look through and approve each photo on Prompto’s camera before the boy could leave with it.

Prompto had excitedly shown Noctis most of these photos on his camera right after he’d taken them, and Noct enjoyed being able to witness his friend’s passion for his hobby, but he knew, standing before the pictures now, he hadn’t fully appreciated what the blond was doing.

Seen together, as a whole, the pictures told the story of their friendship. The images captured were so pure, so wonderful. It was hard to appreciate them in moments just after they were taken, but now, the memories stirred by the photos were so warm and vivid in Noctis’ head. 

There was one of Noctis playing a game at the arcade. Prompto must have lain on the floor to get the angle just right. The look of pure concentration on Noctis’ face made it clear that he had no idea the picture was being taken, and there was something so mesmerizing about the way the colorful artwork on the side of the arcade game, mixed with the dim room and harsh neon lights around them, played across the image. Noctis could almost hear the hubbub and clatter of the arcade, the excited shouts. He could almost smell the greasy pizza and popcorn.

Another photo, taken in the training room, had Gladio in the background posing with his broadsword, while Prompto was in the foreground, obviously struggling to get the angle of the selfie just right. The grin on Prompto’s face was lopsided and strained, and the tilt of the image made it clear he was about to drop the camera. 

Noct snorted out a quiet laugh as his gaze moved to the next image.

It was of Ignis standing over his oven, preparing one of their meals. Steam wafted up from one of the pans, delicately curling up around the Advisor’s face as he stared thoughtfully down at the food. The image itself might have seemed simple, but Noct couldn’t help but feel that Prompto had captured something special in that moment.

In that photo, he could see Ignis’ dedication, his drive to reach perfection, his duty to care for others…and there was a hint of that exhaustion that sometimes clung to Ignis after a particularly long, tiring day.

Noctis moved on to the final picture on the board. It was of Prompto and him. He recalled when it was taken. Prom had talked Ignis into snapping the shot one day when the Advisor was picking them up after school.

They stood in front of Ignis’ black car, with the school behind them. Prompto’s arm was wrapped around Noctis’ shoulder, and the blond had a goofy grin on his face. In fact, it kind of resembled the goofy grin his dad had in all his photos. Noct smiled at that thought.

In the picture, the Prince had his arms crossed. He remembered that he hadn’t been entirely eager to pose for a photo with all their classmates swarming past, leaving school for the day. Making more of a spectacle out of himself than was necessary really wasn’t something Noctis enjoyed, but if it was for Prompto…

He was smiling in the picture, but it was a small, half-hearted thing, and, looking back on it now, he regretted not trying harder for his friend.

“Guess we’ll just have to get more pictures taken together in the future,” Noct muttered to himself as he moved to Prompto’s closet.

It didn’t take him long to find a bag to pack Prompto’s clothes in, and he carefully started choosing outfits that he knew Prompto favored. After shoving in a healthy amount of socks into the bag, he was a bit surprised to find the stupid amount of Chocobo boxers his friend owned. Yeah, he was certainly going to give the guy some grief about that later.

With the bag full, he was just about to leave the room when he paused, stepped toward the bed and snatched up the plush Chocobo. Then, he headed for the hall. 

**********************

Prompto tried to keep as still and quiet as possible as Ignis tended to the wounds on his arms and legs. He was grateful that the Advisor had handed the ice pack over to him, allowing Prompto to gingerly ice his own swollen leg. There were a few areas far too tender to have any pressure applied, and he had not been looking forward to someone else haphazardly holding the pack to his throbbing leg.

Gladio left only briefly to check and make sure all the lights were off downstairs and that the house was properly locked up. When the Shield returned, he cast an annoyed glance at the stairs.

“Should I go get him?” he asked, but his question was immediately answered from a voice in the upstairs hall.

“I’m coming…” Noctis shouted. “…I just need to grab Prompto’s bathroom stuff.”

Prompto felt his cheeks warm as a flood of embarrassment shot through him. The guys shouldn’t have to do all this for him. They shouldn’t have to root through his clothes and wipe his bloody elbows. Of course, the embarrassment only grew as he spotted Noctis descending the stairs with _Chirpy_ , Prompto’s plush Chocobo, under his arm.

“What is _that?_ ” Gladio asked, brow quirked as he grinned at the stuffed toy.

Noctis looked down and shrugged. “I thought he might like to have it.”

Gladio started to chuckle and Prompto just wanted to die, because…well, he did want Chirpy, and while he was embarrassed to see the plushie under the Prince’s arm, he’d been a little relieved as well. 

Prompto had spent been many lonely nights at home, in the dark, trying to coax himself to sleep without focusing on every little creak and groan of the house. It was hard not to be scared, not to let the loneliness swallow him up. Chirpy helped, and he knew he was probably too old for the stuff toy now, but…

Gladio’s quiet laughter stopped suddenly, and Prompto glanced up to see Ignis giving the Shield an icy glare. For his part, Gladio gave an apologetic glance at Prompto.

Prompto smiled back. Sure, his feelings were a bit bruised, but he knew Gladio really didn’t mean any harm, and it was kind of funny.

“Let’s get you to the car,” Ignis said, breaking up any remaining tension. “Can you stand?”

“Yeah,” Prompto answered quickly, though, as he tried to get to his feet, he found his strength waning. 

It was then that Gladio stepped forward.

“Gonna be easier if I help.” He said, his eyes carefully surveying Prompto. “You good with that?”

Prompto hesitated and then nodded. He wasn’t exactly sure if he was _good_ with that.

“Okay,” Gladio replied, “I’m going to pick you up nice and slowly, just let me know if we need to stop or I need to let you down.”

_Pick me up?!?_

Prompto’s brain went into panic mode, so much so that he said nothing as Gladio went to his left side, cautiously looped an arm under his knees and another arm on his back, and slowly lifted.

There was pain, but not much. The big man was careful not to touch the damaged portions of Prompto’s right leg or his left arm. Prompto kept his wounded arm tucked close, protecting it as he settled into Gladio’s hold. 

“You okay?” Gladio asked.

Prompto frowned. Nothing hurt too much, so yes? But he wasn’t entirely enjoying being so tenderly scooped off the ground. 

“Prompto?”

He blinked, realizing that everyone was staring at him now, their expressions laced with concern.

“Uh,” he stammered, “I’m fine. I…I just haven’t been picked up like this since I was really little. It’s weird, and embarrassing.”

Gladio laughed. “Heck, kid. Just last week I carried Noct to bed after he fell asleep in the locker room. So, I don’t think you have too much to be embarrassed about.”

“Hey!” Noct snapped. “That was a really hard training session you put me through that day. I couldn’t keep my eyes open afterwards, so it was kinda your fault.”

“Alright,” Ignis’ voice was raised, getting everyone’s attention. “I believe we have everything we need. Dawdling will not help Prompto’s recovery. Shall we go?”

There was a general consensus of hummed agreements, and as they started for the door, Prompto felt the stress of his situation start to fade.

He wasn’t alone any longer. He didn’t have to fix everything by himself. He had friends to help him. He had people who were going to take care of him. As that all sank in, he closed his eyes and smiled softly to himself, wondering how he got to be so lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha! I made another chapter! Sorry if it's a little unpolished. School started this week and life got CRAZY! I'm guessing this little piece has at least a couple more chapters to it (though I'm really not sure of the exact number, and then I might work on shorter pieces and prompts. I hope to have another chapter by next weekend. *crosses fingers* I might just have to post shorter chapters for a bit as work and school is kinda going to take over.


	10. Chapter 10

Prompto shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position in the back of Ignis’ car. Next to him, Gladio glanced over, probably making sure he was still doing okay. He was quick to flash a weak smile up at the big guy and then turn his attention back to the phone in his hands.

Ignis had lent him his phone after he’d been settled into the car, saying that perhaps Prompto and Noctis would enjoy a bit of King’s Knight during the drive. It had been a pleasant distraction from the pain, and Prompto found himself feeling incredibly indebted to Ignis for the kind gesture. He knew the Advisor kept his detailed itinerary on the device and typically wouldn’t let either Noct or Prompto near it.

Tentatively, he glanced up at the front, catching sight of the back of Noctis’ head.

Prompto had been a bit flustered at his friend’s eagerness to clamor into the front seat – seemingly settling as far from the blond as possible, but he quickly realized that, with his injuries, he really appreciated having the extra room in the back to sprawl out.

_Noct was just being considerate…that was all…really…_

The soft tones of a number being dialed sounded from beside Prompto, but he didn’t look up. He already knew Gladio was making yet another call, trying to get in touch with someone who could help locate his parents. 

“Hey, Cor,” Gladio said, and Prompto flinched.

_Marshal Cor Leonis? Gladio was calling Cor the Immortal to help find his parents?_

Prompto almost looked up from his game then, but, instead, he forced himself to keep his eyes glued on the screen. However, his attention was focused solely on the Shield’s conversation.

He’d seen the Marshal in the Citadel a couple of times, and each time Prompto had cowered under the man’s gaze. There was something so knowing about the way the Immortal looked as him. It was as if he could see right through him, as if he could see all his secrets. 

Just knowing Gladio was speaking to the man now made Prompto shiver.

“Yeah, sorry, I know you’re busy, but I need a favor. You know Noctis’ friend, Prompto?” Gladio paused, listening. “Yeah, him. Well, his parents have been gone on business for quite a while and the kid hasn’t heard from them. He’s worried something happened.” Again, he paused, and Prompto could just barely hear the faintest sounds of the deep voice on the line, but he couldn’t make out what the man said. 

The King Knight’s game was going terribly. Prompto was absentmindedly playing, letting his fingers dance across the phone without really considering what he was doing. Thankfully, Noct hadn’t called him out on his poor playing. He probably knew Prompto was distracted by the conversation happening beside him. Heck, judging by how Noct was playing, he was probably distracted by the call as well.

“You know them? _How?_ ” Gladio shifted, his tone sounding a bit annoyed. “You didn’t say anything about a month ago when I was asking about them – running background checks and stuff. It would’ve been nice to know they were old friends of yours.” More indistinguishable noise sounded from the line and Gladio shrugged. “Okay, it’s none of my business, but can you help find them?” 

Prompto felt his chest tighten. His parents had never told him anything about knowing Cor the Immortal. 

_Why would they know him? Did he know about the barcode tattoo? Did he know about…?_

Memories of his mother telling him about how he came to Lucis flooded back to Prompto. She’d said a small party of Crownsguards had infiltrated Niflheim on a secret mission. One of them had found him in need of care…the story always became a bit unclear from there, and Prompto always had the feeling there was something either his parents didn’t know, or couldn’t bring themselves to tell him. How had the Crownsguard found him? Why was he alone? Why did he have a barcode tattooed on his wrist? Did everyone from Niflheim have that?

She’d said the man took pity on him and snuck him into Lucis. That he’d brought him straight to her and her husband, and they’d loved him ever since.

The only item he’d had with him was Chirpy, the stuffed Chocobo. Apparently, the Crownsguard had picked it up along the journey to sooth the youngster. 

_Was Cor…was he the one who’d found him?_

“Fine, okay, call me when you hear something.” Gladio lowered the phone and ended the call. 

Prompto couldn’t help himself any longer. He looked up at the man beside him. There were a million questions dancing through his head, though he doubted Gladio could answer any of them. 

If Cor knew his secret, why hadn’t he done anything? Why would he let him be friends with Prince Noctis? Would he try to put an end to their friendship eventually? Had he told others? Did King Regis know? 

Panic entangled Prompto, so that he was drawing in short, clipped breaths. The car suddenly felt unbearably warm, and he thought of asking Ignis to turn up the air, but he couldn’t seem to find his voice. 

Sucking in shuddered gasps, chest constricted, vision blurring, Prompto just wanted out – wanted to be free of the confines of the vehicle, but he knew that wasn’t possible just yet.

“Hey,” Gladio whispered, and Prompto felt a hand settle on his back, patting him gently. “I need you to calm down a bit, okay? Take in a nice deep breath…yeah, like that…and hold it. Good. Okay, slowly let it out. Yeah, you’re doing good. Now, again. Good…”

Prompto followed the instructions, clinging to Gladio’s words as if they were a lifeline. Eventually, he was able to breathe normally as the tightness in his chest eased.

“I-I’m s-sorry…” Prompto mumbled, embarrassed by the sound of his own voice. 

Gladio smiled. His face, usually so gruff and intimidating, held an expression of graceful calm and care. It was the way he looked at Iris sometimes. Prompto recognized it from some of the pictures he had taken of the two. He’d wondered what it would have been like to have an older brother like Gladio, and now, if only for a few minutes, he thought he knew. He felt safe.

“No more apologies, okay, kid?” Gladio said softly. “Not for stuff like this anyways. It’s okay to be upset. You’ve been through a lot lately.”

Prompto gave a weak nod, and then realized Ignis’ phone was no longer in his hands. Quickly, he spotted it on the floor and leaned over to retrieve it, only to feel a sharp stab of pain run up his leg. He couldn’t help the yelp that escaped him, and his vision went a bit fuzzy. He squeezed his eyes shut, riding through the wave of pain that encased him.

When he dared open his eyes, he realized that Gladio had pressed him back into the seat and was holding him in place with one large, muscular arm. He opened his mouth, ready to apologize, but then he remembered what the Shield had said, and he snapped it shut again.

“Just take it easy for a bit, okay,” Gladio said. “I got Ignis’ phone, so you don’t need to worry about that. If you want to play more, I can give it to you. Would you like it?”

Prompto thought about that for a moment, but he quickly realized he didn’t want to spend the energy needed to focus on King’s Knight. Slowly, he shook his head. As the car continued on, Prompto closed his eyes and leaned into Gladio. 

At any other time, he would have been embarrassed, but he was too tired to care about humiliation now. The pain was starting to sap him of too much of his strength. 

Everyone remained silent. No further calls were made. Even with his eyes closed, Prompto knew there was a thick tension hanging over the group. Part of him wanted to try and crack a joke, to make the others feel better, but the pain and exhaustion held him still and quiet.

_I'm sorry guys..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all...a little bit shorter of a chapter, but I have a good start on the next chapter, so maybe if things get a little less crazy here, I'll have a mid-week post! *little whoops of possible victory* The plot bunnies are jumping all over my head. I make no more claims about what the possible length of this story will be. We'll all just have to find out together! :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Yep, life is still crazy busy for me, but I'll keep trying my hardest to get a new (if short) chapter posted each week. Sorry if this bit isn't as polished as other chapters. I'm not finding long spans of time to write, so it's getting in a choppy ten minutes here and ten minutes there. It kind of messes with my train of though on the story progression. So, sorry? Anyway...here's the next piece. Enjoy!

Ever vigilant of keeping the Prince’s safety paramount, Ignis tried valiantly to keep his attention focused on the road ahead, but it was challenging to force his concern and guilt from distracting him. 

Beside him, he could see Noctis cast anxious glances back at his friend. It felt unnatural to go so long in complete silence while Prompto was present, and the Prince’s worry was obviously mounting by the minute.

Even Ignis found himself glancing in the rearview mirror, checking up on the young blond, but what he saw was hardly comforting.

Pale skin sheened with sweat, Prompto was leaning against Gladio. The boy’s eyes were closed, but he hardly looked to be resting peacefully. Pain etched his expression and each breath he took seemed a touch labored. 

Ignis tried to refocus on his driving, to let the Shield worry about their wounded comrade for the time being, but his thoughts just kept drifting back to the youth. 

The ride to the Citadel felt excruciatingly long, and Ignis let loose a quiet sigh of relief when they’d finally reached their destination. 

Prompto remained frightfully still as the car pulled to a stop and as Ignis and Noct shuffled out. His eyes only opened after Gladio shifted slowly, his great arms gently easing under the youth, ready to lift him up.

Obviously startled and embarrassed, Prompto gave a quiet yelp, and his cheeks flushed a dull hue of pink as he was picked up, but as his gaze settled on the wheelchair a Crownsguard pushed up to the car, the boy seemed to relax slightly. 

Undoubtedly, Ignis thought, Prompto hadn’t been keen on the notion of being carried through the Citadel cradled in Gladio’s arms. In preparation of their arrival, before they’d even left Prompto’s domicile, Ignis had texted in the request for the wheelchair. There was no need to bruise the boy’s ego any more than necessary. 

Gladio delicately placed Prompto in the chair and Noctis handed the plush Chocobo over to his friend. For a moment, Prompto just held the toy awkwardly, as if he was considering handing it back, rejecting it, but his expression softened and he gave the bird a tender hug before setting it snuggly beside him. 

The Crownsguard who had wheeled the chair out moved to start pushing Prompto toward the Citadel, but Gladio waved the man off and, rather protectively, took up the position behind the chair. Ignis watched the scene unfold, knowing that if Gladio hadn’t moved in, he would have done so himself. 

Then, as Gladio started to push Prompto up the ramp toward the Citadel, Ignis turned his attention to Noctis. 

The Prince had yet to take more than three steps from the car. His eyes fixed on the chair slowly winding its way up the ramp. Brow furrowed, the dark haired boy stood biting his lower lip, hesitation and worry clearly visible in his expression.

“Noctis,” Ignis called and watched the Prince listlessly turn to face him. “Could you take Prompto’s bag to the guest chambers nearest your room and see to it that the room is properly made up for him? Perhaps you could set up a gaming console so that you two can play while he recovers?”

A slow nod was Noctis’ response. There was no argument, even though this was a task well below his status. Anyone else could have seen to this, but Ignis knew the boy needed a distraction, something that would be helping Prompto without the Prince having to endure going to the medical wing of the Citadel.

Noctis, ever since the incident in his youth, had never willingly gone to the medical wing. Ignis knew the boy associated that area too closely with the fear and pain of his previous wounds and slow recovery. 

After scooping up Prompto’s bag, Noctis started up the stairs, easily making it to the doors before Gladio had finished climbing the sprawling ramp system. Lost in thought, the Prince slipped into the building. 

Catching sight of Prompto’s distressed expression as he watched his friend depart, Ignis was quick to make his way up the stairs and join the pair before Gladio had them inside.

“Noctis simply went ahead to make sure the guest quarters are appropriately made up for you.” Ignis stated, staring down thoughtfully at the boy. “We’ll see him again, later, after Gladio and I take you to the medical wing.”

“Will you stay with me?” Prompto’s voice was quiet, timid. “ _Please?_ ” The last word was no more than a shaky whisper.

That set such an ache into Ignis’ chest. The fear and need for comfort just rang too clearly in the boy’s voice.

“Gladio has some business he must see to…” Ignis replied, biting back the remarks of how this business was tracking down Prompto’s absentee parents and asking them why, in the name of the Six, had they left their poor boy alone for so long. “…but I shall stay by your side the entire time. I promise.”

Prompto gave a content sigh and leaned back in the chair. Eyelids fluttering shut, he managed a quiet, “Thank you, Iggy…”

Gladio and Ignis exchanged a look, something that let them silently convey their agreement to protect the blond, to comfort him and ease their growing heartbreak over his situation.

“We should get moving,” Ignis said at last, spurring Gladio back into motion.

Once inside the Citadel, they moved steadily toward the medical wing, but their arrival had not gone without notice. 

Servants, Crownsguards and Glaives all stepped forward, voicing concern for the Prompto, and it came upon Ignis to offer quick reassurances and then send the people away so that they could keep moving. Offers of help, of concern and well-wishes followed them throughout the halls.

It seemed, much to Ignis’ amusement, Prompto had made quite a few friends at the Citadel. Somehow, that came as little surprise.

 

**************

 

Prompto was tired. His eyes were burning, begging to close, but he knew the pain would continue to drive sleep away. Plus, as he was being wheeled through the Citadel, there were so many different people that kept trying to talk to him, to ask him questions. He felt the need to stay alert, pay attention, but it was so difficult. 

It probably should have been nice to see how many people cared, but all Prompto really wanted to do was hide away. He cringed every time Ignis had to explain that he had merely fallen off his bike.

_Yeah, clumsy me, I fell off my bike while most of the people here in the Citadel are fiercely training and battling daemons and being in actual danger._

He kept quiet though, holding a strained smile in place for each person who stopped their group asking if he was okay, biting back his embarrassment for each exclamation of worry and look of concern. They all meant well, but their fuss made him feel like a fragile child, totally unworthy of being allowed into the building.

As their progression slowed, Ignis and Gladio finally just started ordering everyone that they came across to stand aside, and Prompto felt another surge of gratitude for their actions.

“We’re almost there,” Ignis reassured him, “Just down this hall.”

Prompto eyed the short hallway, bit his lower lip and nodded. 

There would be cold examination tables, needles and bright lights. He was sure of it, and his breath hitched a bit as he considered what awaited him. 

He’d always been rather healthy, no dire injuries plagued his youth, so his trips to the health centers were always short, uneventful, but each trip had brought a deep terror to Prompto. He’d kept it hidden, even from his parents, unsure of what it meant.

For as long as he could remember, he’d had nightmares of… _a medical center?_ He wasn’t quite sure. There was pain and coldness and fear. In these dreams he was alone a lot, trapped in a small confine, knowing that injections and prodding and pain were to come. There was no warmth. There was no love. 

He shivered at the thought of those nightmares, hoping beyond hope that they didn’t hold any truths. 

Now, being wheeled down the hall toward the Citadel Medical Center, panic slowly bloomed in him again. 

_They are only going to help…no need to get all worked up. No one is going to hurt me. No one is going to hurt me…_

He was shaking now, and no matter how hard he tried, Prompto couldn’t make it stop.

Gladio’s pace picked up, and Ignis stepped ahead to fling open the large double doors that had the word _‘Medical’_ emblazed across them in elegant gold letters.

Prompto closed his eyes and braced himself for…well…he wasn’t sure what, but he braced himself. 

The room was warm and smelled of disinfectant. Gladio wheeled him a bit further and then the chair stopped.

“Why, hello there…” The soft female voice was smooth and intoxicatingly calm.

Prompto opened his eyes to find a plump woman in her mid to late forties standing before him. Her hair, grey and silver, was pulled back in a tight ponytail, and her sparkling dark brown eyes were lit with a subdued joy as she stared down at him. Everything about her screamed warmth and comfort.

“My name is Sharah. I’m a doctor here at the Citadel Medical Facility, and I’ll be looking after you today, okay?” She said, and Prompto couldn’t help but smile up at her.

“O-okay…” he managed. “It’s nice to meet you, Sharah.”

She moved forward, slowly, crouching down to meet him at eye level. “I’m sorry to hear you’ve had a bit of an accident, but we’ll get you patched up. I’ve already examined your medical records and see that we’ll need to do a slow potion dosing, just to watch your bodies’ reaction to this first time healing. Can you tell me what is bothering you? Where does it hurt the most?”

Eyes fixed on Prompto, Sharah listened so intently as he told her of his injuries.

“Loose gravel?” She scowled. “That just so happens to be my arch-nemesis. I had a similar spill about three years ago, except I managed to knock myself unconscious. I woke up in my own medical facility on my day off. Of course, I was wearing my favorite spandex athletic suit with dancing moogles all over it. The Glaives will never let me live that down.” Sharah paused, flashing another bright smile at Prompto. “Ah, enough of that story. Let’s get some x-rays taken to see what’s going on. I doubt the breaks are that bad. We’ll probably just need to put a brace on to keep the bones in place while the potion doses heal the limbs. You shouldn’t have to wear the braces for more than a week.”

Sharah was careful to explain everything before she set to work, and Prompto found himself, for one of the first times ever, not being overwhelmed with anxiety as he sat in a medical center. Every move the doctor made was gently, every touch was light and brought a sense of care and confidence. 

Gladio left not long after they had arrived. He was already dialing numbers as he slipped out the door. Prompto felt a slight twist of dread as he watched the Shield leave. He’d known Gladio was only leaving to help find his parents, but he hated the idea of being in this new place, feeling helpless, and slowly being left by everyone. 

However, just as promised, Ignis stayed by his side. 

The Advisor asked Sharah questions about Prompto’s condition and his treatment. He jotted detailed notes into his phone, and added all Prompto’s upcoming appointments and potion schedules to his calendar. 

X-rays were taken, and, just as Sharah guessed, the breaks weren’t that bad. After cleaning up the open wounds on Prompto’s arms and legs, she handed over a very small vial to the blond. 

“This is your first potion dose.” She said. “Tomorrow morning, you’ll come back for your next one. If you aren’t having any complications, I’ll give you a case with the vials you’ll need to take for the next five to six days. You’ll take one dose in the morning at one at night. I’ll give Ignis more detailed instructions tomorrow. For today, let’s just worry about getting your braces on and easing your pain a bit, okay?”

Prompto nodded, and eyed the little blue vial suspiciously. Would it be okay? Would it do something weird to him because he was from Niflheim? Would it hurt? 

Suddenly, he realized Ignis and Sharah were both watching him, waiting. How long, he wondered, had he been lost in thought staring at the potion?

Cheeks burning, he quickly downed the contents of the vial. His heart was pounding violently in his chest, and he held his breath waiting for the reaction.

There was pain in his right leg and left arm, but not the same sharp, horrible pain that came from the initial injury. It was that dull, muted ache that was followed quickly with a warm relief. It was like working a knot out of a muscle. It hurt, but in a good way.

All too soon, the feeling ended.

Prompto realized that there wasn’t as much pain in general radiating from his limbs. Sharah explained that the bones had been partially mended, but that he needed to take care not to jostle them too much.  
She chose a bright yellow brace for his left arm and a matching one for his right leg.

“I heard,” Sharah said, with a grin as she fastened the arm brace into place, “that you like Chocobos.” She paused to glance at Chirpy, who was still seated in the wheelchair. “So, I thought yellow would be an appropriate color.”

Prompto nodded and forced a small smile. He liked Sharah, he really did, but with the pain muted now, his hungry and exhaustion were taking over. He just wanted to be done, to find somewhere quiet and warm to curl up and sleep…and maybe a bit of food wouldn’t be so bad either.

Suddenly, Prompto was given a glass of water and a couple of pain killers, to help ease any lingering discomfort. Though he wasn’t sure he really needed them, he took them, as it seemed to appease both Sharah and Ignis. 

After that, Ignis helped him shift back into his chair, and he was given a thin hospital blanket to drape across his lap – to help cover his legs in his now cut-off jean shorts. 

Clutching Chirpy tightly to his chest, he fought off sleep, but each slow blink brought the threat of slumber. Soon, his eyes were closed, and his senses almost totally muted as the pull of unconsciousness took hold of him, but some part of him wanted to stay awake, to hear what Ignis and Sharah were talking about.

“You’ll keep a close eye on him? The next two hours are critical.” Sharah’s voice was calm, sure. “I can keep him here for observation if you have other matters to attend to.”

“No,” Ignis answered quickly. “My schedule for today has been cleared for the comic book expo that his Highness was hoping to attend. Nothing dire will be missed by having me stay by Prompto’s side, and, I believe, he’d be more comfortable with familiar faces around while he recovers.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” she replied. “I have full faith that you’ll adhere to the potion regiment I laid out for him. I’ll see you tomorrow morning then?”

“Of course. Thank you Doctor. Your help has been most appreciated.”

Prompto could feel his chair moving then, but, try as he might, he couldn’t fight off the pull to sleep any longer.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Here's the latest! I meant to have at least one to two more scenes in this chapter, but I realized that it would probably take me another week to get them written, so I just decided to post what I have for now. Still pretty tight on writing time, so I apologize if things seem less polished than they could be, but that's all I can do for now. Enjoy!

_Where am I?_

Everything was hazy and disjointed. 

Throngs of people pelted past Prompto. A heavy vibration of joy and entertainment hung in the air. This place though, it wasn’t familiar. There were brightly colored posters and banners and people in costume. Everything was vibrant and bubbling with movement and sound, so much so that Prompto felt overwhelmed and elated all at once. 

He scanned the crowded room, relieved to find Noctis by his side, and suddenly he knew where they were.

It was the Darkhouse Comic Expo!

A fleeting burst of disbelief swept through him. There was a reason he wasn’t supposed to be here, right? Something had happened… This couldn’t be real. 

And then that thought dissipated, lost amid the swirl of super heroes, costumes and celebrity guests. 

Prompto easily followed Noctis through the crowds, laughing and joking with the Prince as they stopped at various booths.

Then, Ignis and Gladio appeared – seemingly materializing out of nowhere, and Prompto didn’t think to question it, to wonder or nitpick over this turn of events.

Together, the little group moved through the expo. There was so much to see, and Prompto felt himself enveloped in happiness. 

Gradually, the swirl of brilliant colors all around him seemed to dim, and Prompto’s surroundings were suddenly swathed in a sickly, pale green hue.

_No, not this…not this…please…not this…_

Prompto halted as a bloom of fear overtook him. He knew this somehow. The color…it meant something bad…but, he couldn’t remember exactly. 

All sound disappeared, so that he was in a vacuum of silence. No one in the crowded room seemed to notice though. They all kept shopping and laughing and talking, leaving Prompto to stand, gaping at the silence and wretched green light that engulfed them all.

He turned to the guys, instantly realizing Gladio was gone. Neither Noct nor Ignis seemed to have noticed, and when Prompto tried to tell them, his voice was lost amid the devastating silence. 

Prompto desperately scanned the crowd, looking for the Shield, but Gladio was nowhere to be seen. Turning his gaze back to his other two friends, Prompto soon realized that Ignis had vanished as well.

Only Noctis remained. He looked happy, flashing a brilliant smile Prompto’s way, but, as the lights flickered, in the span of those seconds of darkness, the Prince vanished as well. 

Prompto felt his heartbeat flutter, his stomach twist and writhe as utter panic set in. 

Another flicker of the lights and all the crowds vanished. 

Alone, Prompto took in a shaky breath, gaze darting around the vast room, hoping to find one other living soul, but there was no one.

Then, everything went dark, and he couldn’t move. He was lying down, trapped somewhere, cold, dark walls looming all around. It was hard to breath. There wasn’t enough room. His body ached, wanting to stretch, to move, but he couldn’t.

A lingering chill set upon him and he could hear the faint cries of children. Were they children? He thought so, but they sounded so feral, so… _unnatural…_

The sounds grew louder, more desperate, closer. He whimpered, wanting so badly for the chorus of screams and cries to stop.

_Why is this happening?_

*******

Prompto woke to screaming – his own screaming.

Heart racing, he sat up, panting, trying to get some bearings on his whereabouts, but before he could, he was suddenly enveloped in warmth. He clung to that warmth, holding it tightly, afraid it might disappear otherwise.

A gentle hushing sound emitting from somewhere near his right ear, and he pressed closer, eager to be near the soothing noise. It was so much better than those screams…what had been happening to those children? It was…it was just a dream…right?

Prompto realized that he was crying. Streams of hot tears were rolling down his cheeks. He sniffled and rubbed his face against the warmth holding him, only to realize it was Ignis.

He drew back a little, embarrassed, but Ignis’ only reaction was to help gently settle Prompto back down into the bed. A warm hand rested briefly on Prompto’s forehead. He knew he felt clammy, a cold sweat dampening his skin. This was just what the nightmares did to him. It would pass, but, of course, he didn’t want to explain to the guys that this was normal. 

What would they think of him being scared of dreams? He was too old for that, right?

Prompto scanned the room, seeing Gladio pacing, talking in low, hurried tones on his phone. On the couch across the room, Noctis sat up, wide-eyed and staring at Prompto from a mess of blankets. Obviously, the Prince had been dozing as well.

“It’s okay, Prompto. Gladio is talking to Doctor Sharah. ” Ignis offered softly. “She’s on her way right now.” 

_Oh Six, they think I’m having a bad reaction to the potion…_

Prompto blinked up at the Advisor, wanting to speak up, to tell the man that he was okay, that it had just been a bad dream. Honestly, besides the slowly dissipating swell of fear and anxiety, he felt fine.

Before he could say anything though, Sharah burst into the room. With ten great strides, she was beside Prompto’s bed, forcing Ignis to shift away. Her strained expression instantly lightened though.

“This,” she exclaimed, gesturing at Prompto, “is certainly _not_ a reaction to the potion. Believe me, if he was having a reaction, you’d know.”

She leaned down, hand tenderly settling on Prompto’s forehead. Her touch was delicate and soft, like the velvety caress of a rose petal. Her eyes scanned him carefully, as if gauging him somehow.

Ignis moved to the couch, bending down and starting to untangle Noctis from his blankets. “Your Highness, would you be so kind as to accompany me to the kitchen? I could use a hand bringing our meals here. It would be nice if we all dined together, I think.”

Noctis blinked, staying still a moment before he slowly shifted off the couch. The Prince’s worried gaze flickered back to Prompto, as if he wasn’t quite sure if he should leave his friend. 

“Gladio,” Ignis said, turning to the Shield. “Noctis and I shall return shortly.”

“Yeah, got it…” The big man replied. “…we’ll be here with our appetites ready.”

At the thought of food, Prompto’s stomach gurgled, but it was only loud enough for him and maybe Sharah to hear.

The doctor smiled down at him, but, while she still held an aura of calmness to her, there was something sad wafting off her as well. 

“I heard you were a bit restless in your sleep. Gladio said it sounded like you were in pain and that you woke up screaming,” Sharah said, pulling her hand away from Prompto’s forehead. “That must have been one heck of a bad dream, was it about the fall you took this morning?”

He fidgeted a little, keeping his eyes on his lap. Part of him wanted to lie, to make up something, but, did it matter if he told her? It didn’t really mean anything, right?

He waited a moment, watching Noctis and Ignis exit the room, before he spoke.

“It was just a dream I have sometimes – since I was little. It’s always a little different, but kind of the same, you know?” Prompto shrugged. That was probably a horrible explanation, but it was the best he could do at the moment. 

“I see,” Sharah replied. “Could you tell me about the dream?”

“Uh…I guess?” He gave a low sigh, uncertain of where to begin. “I was with Noct, Gladio and Ignis at the Darkhouse Comic Expo, but everything kinda turned green, like I was seeing it through some weird filter, and there was no sound. I could see people talking, but I couldn’t hear anything.”

“That does sound upsetting,” Sharah said, “was there more?”

Prompto nodded. “Noct, Gladio and Ignis disappeared, and then the rest of the people at the expo disappeared. I was alone. Then it got dark, and I was trapped somewhere. There were cold walls and I couldn’t really move.”

Sharah gave a quiet hum of concern.

“And there were kids…screaming…like they were…I dunno…” He trailed off, not wishing to finish the thought, not wanting to admit that the kids sounded like they were being hurt, that they were dying.

“It’s okay, though,” Gladio pipped up, and Prompto gave a start as he had forgotten the Shield was still in the room. “That was just a dream, and you’re safe now. You’re here with us, okay?”

A warm flush swept across Prompto’s face. He hadn’t meant for Gladio to hear about his dreams. Those nightmares just made him feel so small and helpless. It was already hard enough trying not to look like a pitiful weakling to Gladio, the man of pure muscle and courage, but now he’d just admitted that his dreams upset him. 

“Yeah,” Prompto answered softly, forcing a smile, “thanks.”

If they were just dreams though, why did they always feel so real?

********

Ignis slowed as they neared the kitchen. Noctis had been trailing far enough behind him during their trek as to make a conversation impossible. Whether the boy was simply lost in his feelings or purposefully trying to avoid a talk with his Advisor, Ignis was uncertain.

“Your Highness,” Ignis said, watching Noctis shuffle closer. “You’ve been…quiet this morning. I know events have been a bit more chaotic than what was planned for today, but I’m concerned about your well-being.”

“It’s nothing,” Noctis mumbled, pushing his way past Ignis to get to the kitchen. 

Ignis followed, fully unconvinced that this was _nothing._

Setting to work gathering their meal, which was a simple, hearty stew, Ignis motioned for Noctis to start slicing some fresh bread. They worked in silence for about three minutes before Ignis let out a low sigh.

“I apologize.” He said, not daring to look away from the hot stew he was pouring into a bowl. Of course, he could have halted the task and turned his focus to Prince Noctis, but he didn’t exactly want to do that. He wished to save himself the hurt of seeing the young man’s reaction. “I shouldn’t have put up so many barriers on your friendship with Prompto. I feel that I pushed him away somehow, that I made this situation what it is. I understand if you are upset with me. I’m rather upset with myself.”

There was a pause, a few moments of silence before Noctis started slicing the bread again. Ignis listened to the slow pull of the knife across the loaf, waiting to hear the Prince’s reply, and, just as he was starting to believe no answer would come, Noctis spoke.

“I’m not mad at you.”

Again, silence. Noctis kept slicing. They were going to have far too much bread cut, but Ignis didn’t dare stop him. 

“I just…” Noctis continued, “…hate seeming him hurt, and I…” He paused, and Ignis looked up to see watery blue eyes staring back at him. “I should have known that he was struggling. I mean, I knew about the diner job but not the paper routes, or how long his parents had been away. I knew they traveled a lot, but I thought they came back every few weeks.” He absentmindedly started to gather the slices of bread. “It seems like Prompto and I talk about everything…except…maybe not the important stuff?” 

Ignis set the bowl with stew aside and tilted his head at the Prince. “Your friendship is still young, and you’ve learned a valuable lesson today. There is still time to, as you said, talk about the important stuff.”

Noctis nodded sadly. “Yeah, I guess.”

There was more, Ignis was sure of it, but he knew better than to press the youth too hard. He would have to be delicate with how he approached the issue.

“If you talk to Prompto about what happened to you in your youth, about why you have trouble facing injury and pain, and why you don’t like to visit the medical wing, he’ll understand why you’ve been…” Ignis paused, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. 

“So weird.” Noctis finished, his voice weary but not tinged with the anger Ignis feared his meddling would stir. “He must think I’m terrible with how I keep avoiding him. I- I don’t mean to…it’s just…I keep remembering how it was back then, how helpless and horrible it was, how I never wanted to feel that way again, and now, Prompto… He’s not supposed to get hurt. I just didn’t think this would be something that would happen…I just…I don’t know…”

Noctis' admission stirred something within Ignis. Rarely did the Prince’s Advisor dwell on those dark days in the past – those days when the doctors whispered of nerve damage and loss of function. It had been a miracle that the young Prince had survived the attack, but the aftermath, the nightmares, treatments, physical therapy…it was so hard to endure and keep up the boy’s spirits. Repeatedly calling his survival a miracle felt somehow cruel as Ignis watched the boy suffer through each day.

The damage had been too severe for treatment with potions alone. Muscle mass had been ripped away, and without a doctor’s hand to carefully craft the proper muscles together, there was no certainty that the wounds would heal in a way that would leave the boy with full mobility. The process was long and painful. Each operation left Noctis looking so small and pale in his bed.

Both Ignis and Gladio had been a mess during that time. Gladio spent every hour he could training, swearing that he’d be the strongest Shield ever, that he’d never let anything like the attack happen again. 

Honestly, Ignis had resented Gladio’s actions slightly, for it seemed a touch unfair that the Shield had something to focus his grief and anger on – that he didn’t have to witness the Prince’s pain daily. 

Meanwhile, Ignis was tasked with staying by Noctis’ side, seeing to his pain medicine regiment, checking his wounds, easing the trouble child’s mind, and holding him when he woke from his nightmares.

Eventually, Ignis quelled that discontent, realizing that Gladio needed that outlet, and that his effort would, some day, be of great use to Noctis. They each had to serve Noctis in their own ways. Sometimes Ignis’ duties would seem more demanding and other times that burden would fall to Gladio. It was logical.

Still, that past haunted them all though.

Even now, though sporadic, Noctis had nightmares. He woke in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, panting for breath. Ignis was not there to witness all the incidents, but he’d find the sweat laden sheets in the morning, and he would know. That paired with the dark circles under the Prince’s eyes would hint of a night of disturbed dreams. 

“What do you think Prompto was dreaming about?” Ignis asked, his thoughts trailing back to the troubled young blond. Whatever the dream had been, it seemed to have been something traumatic. Prompto’s reactions to the nightmare had reminded Ignis far too much of Noctis’ nights of terror. It had felt so familiar holding Prompto just as he used to hold Noctis when he was a child.

“I dunno,” Noctis answered softly, “but it happened once before…”

_What?_

“We’d been studying in my room, and Prompto must have dozed off. You were making dinner in the kitchen, and I just decided to let Prom sleep a while. He looked dead tired, but after about forty minutes, he started twitching in his sleep and making all these strange little noises. It was a little funny at first…and then it wasn’t.” Noctis frowned. “I shook him awake. He was all sweaty and gasping like a fish out of water. For a minute, he looked like he didn’t know where he was. He just looked so…scared.”

Ignis nodded. “Did he say what it was about?”

“He said he’d stayed up late the night before watching a scary movie,” Noctis replied, but his tone, to Ignis’ trained ear, was laced with doubt. 

“But you didn’t believe him.” Ignis answered.

“I didn’t, but he was really embarrassed and I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, so I kinda didn’t push it.”

Ignis pursed his lips, uncertainty playing at his thoughts. There had been nothing in Prompto’s file that hinted of any past trauma. His medical records were clean. There had been no major injuries logged, but there had been a few prescriptions for low doses of sleeping aids. The boy had seemed a touch hyperactive, so Ignis hadn’t dwelt on those prescriptions much, but now…

“Let’s get this food back to the room.” Ignis said “I fear Gladio’s mood may start to shift if he doesn’t eat soon.”

“Sure,” Noctis mumbled as he started to help Ignis place the food on trays.

Ignis cleared his throat. “Also, I’ve managed to get an advanced copy of the new monster-y slayer game you two are always yammering on about. It will be brought up to Prompto’s room in the next hour or so, depending on its arrival to the Citadel.”

“What!?!” Noctis turned on Ignis, grabbing him by his jacket. “You got the Monster Mayhem IV game? How is that even possible? I didn’t know they were finished making it.”

Ignis grinned. “I have my ways.”

Gently, Ignis pried the Prince’s fingers off his jacket lapels and carefully picked up the tray with the four bowls of soup. In turn, Noctis managed to pick up the tray of bread and drinks without spilling anything. That alone, felt like a small miracle to Ignis.

“The best thing you can do for Prompto right now is just be his friend.” Ignis paused, turning his back to Noctis as he started for the door. “He’s a strange boy, always seeming so happy, but I imagine even he needs some cheering up now and again. That is the perfect job for you, Your Highness. After all, you seem, to me, to be a very good friend.”

With that Ignis started down the hall, barely catching the quiet ‘thank you’ the Prince had offered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week will have some more Cor chapters! Sorry I couldn't get them in this week. :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Heavy Cor chapter with a long odd flashback. I honestly probably could have made this piece its own story, but I just crammed it all in to one chapter. Sorry if it's a bit mashed in. I just really wanted to get my Cor backstory out there. Enjoy!

Gladio watched Prompto and Noctis as they launched into their new video game. 

Bellies full of stew, the boys were sprawled across the bed, eyes fixated on the screen on the far wall as they started fidgeting with their controllers. Prompto was at a clear disadvantage with his arm in a brace, but he didn’t complain.

The two would undoubtedly stay put until dinner, and, even then, they would probably only pause the game long enough to wolf down whatever Ignis had painstakingly prepared. 

Normally, Gladio would have hounded Noctis for wasting a whole afternoon on video games when he could have been training, but that certainly wasn’t something he was worried about today. Heck, he was thinking about laying off the kid for the rest of next week – just letting him hang out with Prompto.

Of course, it’d be hard as hell to get Noctis back into the habit of training after a week off, so maybe that wasn’t such a good idea?

Glancing over, he caught Ignis silently gesturing toward the door. The message was clear and Gladio nodded before following the Prince’s Advisor. 

In the hall, they found Cor waiting. Gladio hid his surprise as well as he could, but he was sure he let some of it slip. After all, he’d hardly expected the Immortal to come make a visit at Prompto’s room. It really made the big guy wonder exactly how Cor knew the Argentums. 

“How’s the kid,” the Cor asked, his tone gruff, hard.

“As fine as can be expected,” Ignis answered. “He’s on a regiment for potions to finish healing his broken bones and the open wounds he sustained are almost fully closed. I imagine he’ll be quite sore and exhausted for the remainder of the week, but it is nothing a little rest and care can’t cure.”

“Had a pretty bad nightmare too…” Gladio chimed in. He wasn’t sure why he felt it was important, but he did.

Cor perked up a little, his piercing gaze fixed squarely on Gladio. “Did he tell you what it was about?”

It was a question but said in a way that felt like a command. It was directly meant to be answered with full compliance.

“He said we were all at the comic expo,” Gladio started, “but everything turned a weird green color and went silent. Then we disappeared and he was all alone. He said everything went dark and he was trapped somewhere small with cold walls all around him, and there were children screaming.” He paused to let out a low, frustrated sigh. “The kid was really shaken up about it.” 

When Gladio looked up, he saw that Cor too seemed shaken. The man had paled a bit, his lips pursed and brow was furrowed. 

“Marshal, does this dream hold some significance we are not aware of?” Ignis asked.

Cor opened his mouth, as if he was going to respond, but he didn’t. It felt undeniably odd to see the Marshal at a loss for words. 

Gladio frowned. “Probably just the kid having abandonment issues because his no-good parents are never around.”

The world became a blur and pain flared through Gladio as he found himself suddenly lying flat on his back, Cor standing over him, glaring down. 

“Don’t you ever speak ill of the Argentums again, you understand?” Cor growled. “Or I will do far more than knock you down next time.”

A familiar rage boiled in Gladio. He tried to still it, but he could feel it taking control. Tightening his fists, he started to stand, ready to launch at Cor, but then Ignis was there between them. Calm, reasonable Ignis was there to diffuse the situation. 

“I suggest, unless you wish you have Prompto and Noctis coming out here to see what is amiss, that you both halt any more physical assaults.”

Some of the tension seemed to ease out of Cor’s shoulders and he nodded at Ignis. Then, the Marshal turned and started to stalk away, but he halted suddenly.

Back still to Ignis and Gladio, he spoke.

“Lillian and Ulnic Argentum took Prompto in when he was a year old. I’m sure you’ve seen his adoption papers and know that already, but there’s so much more that those papers don’t tell you.” Cor paused, taking in a shaky breath. “It took Prompto a long time to learn to talk, and he was painfully shy around strangers. He had nightmares and was frightened of being alone. Lillian and Ulnic gave up everything they had worked for to care for him. They loved their jobs and their research and had never considered having children, but when Prompto needed them, they gave up everything for him. They were the best parents that he could have ever gotten. Whatever he’d been through before he came to them, it…it wasn’t good. His nightmares are some remnant of that time.”

Cor paused, and Gladio and Ignis waited. 

There was so much more Gladio wanted to know, so many questions he had. Why was there no information on where Prompto had come from? How did he just appear out of thin air at one year old? Had Prompto been abused as an infant? What did the nightmares mean? 

A slow anger, mixed with grief and pity began heating Gladio. He couldn’t imagine anyone mistreating Prompto, and yet he’d seen how shaken the boy was after that nightmare. Maybe what Cor said was true.

“Eventually,” Cor said quietly, “when Prompto was seven, and was more well-adjusted, Lillian and Ulnic started their research in irrigation and botany again. Slowly, their work took them away for longer and longer periods of time, but Prompto didn’t complain, and he became well versed in taking care of himself. I can’t say I agree with that choice entirely, but…” He signed. “…Lillian and Ulnic had trouble refusing the pleas for help from farmers and villages that were suffering. If they’d been greedy and wasteful with their time, it would have been different, but, instead, they just wanted to give too much. It is hard to hate them entirely for that.”

Gladio slowly released his fists, feeling a touch of his anger cool. Perhaps he’d thought too poorly of Prompto’s parents without knowing more about them. Still, he couldn’t lift all his bitterness toward them. They had adopted Prompto. They had agreed to care for him. Leaving him alone for months at a time was not how they honored that agreement. 

“How exactly did you meet the Argentums?” Ignis inquired, breaking the silence.

Cor shrugged. “I grew up with Lillian and Ulnic. We were from the same neighborhood. We just grew apart as we became adults. We kept in touch, but barely.”

“Enough to keep you filled in on Prompto’s progress.” Ignis replied. “I find that interesting.”

Gladio stood tense for a moment, suddenly aware that Ignis seemed to have struck a nerve with the observation. Cor remained motionless, stiff. 

“I believe we are done here,” Cor finally answered, and then he stormed away. 

“What the hell was that about?” Gladio asked, feeling pretty sure he was missing something fairly vital in the exchange.

“It appears,” Ignis replied, “that Cor Leonis is a rather complicated man.”

 

*******

 

Cor strode swiftly down the hall, letting his anger recede as he traveled. He could not lay so much blame on Gladio and Ignis. They hadn’t known. Hell, they still didn’t really know.

Rounding a corner, the Immortal slunk into his office. After sitting at his desk and pulling out his cellphone, he made a barrage of calls, contacting hunters and Glaives in the area he was sure that had swallowed up Lillian and Ulnic. He was using a bunch of favors, but it was worth it to find those two.

Reaching the end of his contact list, Cor leaned back in his seat, staring blankly at the paperwork on his desk. The daily reports could wait. He just needed a moment to gather himself, to think.

It had seemed so long ago, when he first laid eyes on that fuzzy blond hair, but, Cor mused, it had only been…what? Fourteen? Fifteen years? 

He sighed, sinking further into his seat. Had it really been that long? 

Back then, with an infant son of his own, King Regis hadn’t wished to push any act that could be seen as a declaration of war, but whispers of experimentations and the mass development of weapons within the Niflheim borders kept reaching Lucis. Fear and tension hung heavily over the kingdom. 

And so, Regis came to Cor with a request. It was not an order. The King made that very clear. Cor was allowed to decline the mission if he so chose. 

Regis asked for Cor to lead a small band of Glaives into Niflheim and root out if there were any truths to the rumors running so rampant. This group would have to be stripped of anything that would associate them to Lucis, and, if they were captured, they could not disclose their kingdom of origin, or there would, undoubtedly, be repercussions for Lucis.

Without hesitation, Cor agreed to go. It was for the good of Lucis and so there was, in his opinion, no other choice to be made. He carefully selected four Glaives and made to them the same request Regis had made of him. All agreed, as he had known they would, and after a night gathering supplies, they’d set off the next morning. 

There had been a great many missions and battles in Cor’s life that had changed him somehow – that had altered his soul, either for good or ill, but none haunted him more than _that_ mission.

It had been for his King, for his Kingdom, so he could not regret it completely, and yet if he could burn the memories of that accursed facility away, he would eagerly do so. 

Nestled within that facility in Niflheim, he’d expected to find a great many things, but he’d never dreamt of the horrors that had unfolded before him.

Prompto wasn’t the only one who had nightmares about that place.

It had been a room unlike the others in the building. Bathed in a sickly green light, the air thick with the scent of disinfectant and another unknown, overpowering chemical, something about the room instantly had Cor on edge. 

One of the Glaives had found them. They had been easy to miss at first, tucked within those small metal boxes lined up against the walls – those infants with deathly pale faces and dull, blank stares.

Without thinking, Cor reached into the first box he came upon, lifting the dark-haired infant up. The little creature reminded him of Noctis, except…

Upon being touched, lifted, the babe began to scream and writhe, frothing at the mouth and feebly scratching and snapping at Cor. He set it back down into its metal box quickly, and it silenced. Still, the infant’s hard, dark eyes peered up, not at Cor but through him. The little thing looked more animal than human, ready to unleash his small reserve of strength into whatever attack he could perform. 

The outburst brought no attention to the room though. The group from Lucis had frozen, waiting for someone to come investigate, but either no one cared, or that terrible cry was expected in this room.

Two of the Glaives attempted to pick up other infants, but the results were the same. 

Cor found a computer terminal that someone had forgotten to log out of, and he was able to shift through a small portion of the lab’s data. 

Genetically modified clones – Niflheim was _creating_ their soldiers, and they weren’t going to stop at just raising and training these infants. No, there were plans to _upgrade_ them as they grew, to _enhance_ them. 

The report read like a piece of Niflheim propaganda about these new ‘super soldiers,’ but Cor could see through the showy, conceited flow of words to the truth of the matter. These infants were earmarked to be experimented on, to be cut and injected and tested until they either became Niflheim’s desired soldiers or they died. 

There was a list of failed specimens—each only having a brief explanation beside a serial number. Many had died at the four month mark. The note beside them reading: Failure to Thrive – Terminated.

It made Cor sick, but he kept searching the data.

He came across a file labeled “Dosage Schedule and Content” but, whoever had logged on to the computer didn’t have the clearance to view the file. That was too bad. Cor had a feeling whatever these injections were, it would be important for Lucis to know about them.

Finally satisfied that he’d learned enough, Cor had pulled himself away from the terminal. He’d known they’d spent too long in the facility. It would only be a matter of time before someone discovered them and sounded an alarm. They had to get moving.

As he strode toward the door, it had been a shock of blond hair that had caught Cor’s eye, and he would have kept moving if he hadn’t noticed how those inquisitive, sparkling blue eyes were following him. 

Tentatively, Cor slowed and then turned to approach the metal box housing the infant. 

Unlike the others, this baby looked at him. There was nothing feral or wild in the child’s gaze. If anything, there was fear and loneliness, but there was a sense of hope as well.

Perhaps Cor should have kept moving. Perhaps it had been foolish to reach out for the baby, to pick him up and pull him close. The thing could have gone as violent as the others. He could have cried out, alerting anyone nearby, but he didn’t.

The small thing leaned into the embrace, his little hands clutching at the cloth of Cor’s shirt, as if he were trying to hold on for dear life, as if he were afraid he’d never feel warmth like this again.

Cor decided immediately. He would not leave without this child. Amid this horror, he wanted to have one saving grace to keep him afloat. He could not save them all. The others would have only darkness and suffering ahead, and Cor grieved for them, but this boy…he could save _this_ boy.

The Glaives and Cor started to make their way out of the facility, but they were seen and the alarms were triggered. By the time they’d made it outside to their snowmobiles, they were taking heavy fire. 

As they raced down the steep embankments, one of the Glaives disappeared in a fiery explosion as a barrage of missiles rained down on the group. 

Once they’d reached a flat expanse, two more Glaives fell. The ice of the lake giving way, pulling them into her murky depths, trapping them so that a hail of gunfire could finish them off. 

Helpless to assist his comrades, Cor rode on, concentrating on the infant swaddled to his chest. Even now, looking back, Cor can’t imagine how they lived. It was only by the will of the Astrals that they were able to escape. 

They were still a long way from safety though.

It had been awkward at first, traveling with and caring for the child, but then everything started to click. It felt natural and, while frustrating at times, it held a strange comfort. Cor had grown quite fond of the boy – of Prompto. It was the nickname of a hunter Cor had known long ago. The man had been kind and honest with an infectious laugh, and the baby, with his bright smile and innocent giggle reminded Cor so much of that man he once knew. 

In the end, of the group that initially left on that mission, only Cor would return to Insomnia fully intact. 

The lone Glaive remaining at his side, Edward, had a mental break on their trip back. The horror of the seeing Niflheim’s infant experiments coupled with the deaths of his comrades was too much for the Glaive to withstand. Withdrawn and quiet, the man constantly had a haunted look on his face. He refused to speak much or eat at all, and he was a gaunt, shell of a man by the time they returned to their king. 

Reaching Insomnia should have marked relief for the travelers, but never had Cor felt such a conflict over his loyalty to his King as when he entered the Citadel with the small boy concealed snuggly within the folds of his jacket. He recalled feeling the familiar warm spot of drool dampening his chest as the boy slept against him. He remembered holding him tight, not letting any of the guards on duty so much as look at the child.

Standing outside the King’s chamber, Cor feared what Regis would command. Would he want the boy to be studied and locked away? Would Prompto get to have a normal childhood? Would Regis deny the child citizenship? Cor didn’t think so, but… the worry still nagged at him, still whispered at him to keep the child safe, to not present him to Regis. 

In the end, his loyalty to the Crown won.

After entering the chamber, he gave his report to Regis. The mood in the room was somber, the King trying his best to comprehend the horrors that Cor was explaining. Then, Regis asked to see the child.

A deep ache settled into Cor’s chest as he handed the baby to his King. 

For a moment, Prompto and Regis merely stared at each other, until the King, regal and dignified as he was, started making faces at the boy. Prompto erupted into a peal of laughter, his little face red with delight as stared lovingly up at the man. The boy’s expression seemed to be begging Regis to make the faces again, and so, the King complied.

With Prompto bouncing on the King’s knee, Cor and Regis spoke for a long while about the boy’s fate. 

They both agreed – no one could find out he was from Niflheim. It was imperative for not only the boy’s safety, as there were those in Lucis who would seek to do great harm to someone from Niflheim, but it was also for the sake of the Kingdom of Lucis. What would happen if word got back to Niflheim that their stolen infant specimen was living happily in Lucis? Certainly nothing good would come of that. 

There was little to give away the fact that the boy wasn’t born in Lucis. Yes, the blond hair was a bit rarer for citizens here, but it was not unheard of. No, the real issue lay in the tattooed barcode on the child’s wrist. It clearly marked him as Niflheim property. 

In the end, their decision left Cor both feeling content and oddly hollow. 

Prompto would be raised within the protective walls of the city of Insomnia. He would be granted full citizenship. From a distance, Cor would keep an eye on him. He would get to have the life of a normal boy, but, to keep him out of the public eye, he would not be raised by anyone associated with the Citadel or Royal Family. 

Cor could not be an key part of his life, and that hurt worse than he’d expected. Why? Why did it hurt so much? Had he really thought he would keep the child? That he would raise Prompto?

_Yes._

During their travel back, whether he meant to or not, Cor had considered how he could alter his schedule to make time for the boy once they were back in Insomnia. He daydreamed of training Prompto when he was older, of teaching him about the ways of the world and sharing with the boy all his adventures and wisdom.

He’d watched Clarus spend time with his young son, Gladio, and, though Cor was quick to say he’d never want that sort of responsibility or distraction in his life, he felt a stab of jealously as well. 

After spending so much time with Prompto as they traveled, Cor felt the desire to have that bond even more. He wanted to keep the boy. He wanted a son.

But that was not going to happen.

So, if he was not going to raise the boy himself, there was only two other people he knew, that had no clear connections to the Citadel and Royal Family, who Cor trusted to adopt and protect Prompto – Lillian and Ulnic Argentum. 

In his youth, before he’d joined the Crownsguard at age 13, Cor had been thick as thieves with Lillian and Ulnic. They had been neighbors, friends and confidants. At one point, Cor had been certain he would marry Lillian when they grew up, but, in the end, her heart belonged to Ulnic. 

While Cor became a Crownsguard. Lillian and Ulnic had dedicated their lives to the sciences. She had studied biology and medicine and he had studied chemistry with a keen interest in biochemistry, but they both abruptly, and much to their families’ dismay, turned their studies to the less prestigious fields of botany and irrigation management. 

They had explained to Cor that something was shifting in the world, that the data was indicating that the farmlands were producing less, that the weather patterns were changing and they feared, in the end, if no one intervened, that the crops would start to fail. 

Their backgrounds with medical research, biology and bio-chemistry made them great candidates though for caring for and, to a lesser extent, studying Prompto. After all, it was in the boy’s best interest if they understood a little about him. In case he had ill reactions to something later in life. 

Convincing Lillian and Ulnic had been trying. No, it had been almost impossible. Their lives were their research. They’d never wanted children. They had known from the start that it would be unfair of them to bring a child into their hectic lives. 

But Cor wouldn’t relent.

He told them everything. He knew holding anything back would only endanger the boy more. They had to know what they were getting into. In the end, it wasn’t Cor’s words that swayed them, it was Prompto’s smile. One look at the boy and Lillian and Ulnic gave in. 

Still, they took him with heavy hearts, saying that they were sure they would fail him some day, that they would love him and care for him, but that they knew themselves too well. They knew how their passion for their work blinded them. 

Cor knew they were right, but there was no one else he could turn to with Prompto’s secret. There was no one who would see past the boy’s heritage and love him with all their hearts as much as the Argentums would.

Leaving Prompto with the plush Chocobo he’d bought him during their travels, Cor walked away that day, knowing that the loss he felt then would follow him for the rest of his life.


	14. Chapter 14

Finally working up his courage, Noctis paused the game. 

He knew Ignis would be occupied preparing dinner for at least the next hour, and Gladio had disappeared, stating that he needed to get some training in – which was the big guy’s code for needing to blow off frustration and punch something…or someone. 

So, for the time being, the two friends were alone. This was Noctis’ chance.

“You have to pee or something?” Prompto asked, setting his controller aside as he glanced at Noct. “Dude, you were really downing that soda earlier, so I’m not surprised. I tried to warn you that wasn’t a good idea right before this boss battle was coming up.”

Noctis shrugged. “Naw, I just thought we could use a break.”

“Oh…” The confusion was evident in Prompto’s voice, and as silence settled over the two, the blond began to fidget with the brace on his left arm.

Suddenly everything Noctis had intended to say vanished. His mind went blank and he sat there, desperately wanting to start the game back up and forget that he’d even attempted to have this conversation, but, instead, he took a deep breath and willed himself to start talking, to start saying _anything._

“I’m sorry.” 

Prompto raised a brow, his mouth open in surprise as he stared back at Noct. 

“What? _Why?_ For pausing the game? It’s okay. We’ve been playing for quite a while. I guess a little break isn’t that bad. It’s probably a good idea to get a stretch in before the boss battle anyway.”

And, as if to emphasis the point, Prompto carefully did a few light stretches as he sat in the bed. Gingerly raising his arms up, he arched his back and then turned his neck from side to side. In his banged-up state, he was a rather comically sight.

“Oh man, yep, I was definitely a bit stiff,” Prompto smiled, “That was a great call, buddy. Way to use that noggin. Want to start the game back up now?”

“No, I don’t,” Noctis answered, cringing a little at the hurt look on his friend’s face. “I…I think we need to talk.”

Prompto deflated a bit, seeming smaller, more uncertain. “Uh, ok…” He paused, looking down, his eyebrows scrunching up, clear signs of worry marring his face. “…but, I just…I don’t think you have anything to be sorry about. I mean, if this is about today, it was me that messed up, right? We didn’t get to go to the comic expo because of me. I just…seem to mess things up sometimes…” Near the end, his voice was no more than a breathy whisper, sounding as if he’d had to painfully force the words out.

_What? No….no, Prompto, you idiot!_

“You don’t mess things up,” Noct answered, keeping his tone sure, firm. “Or at least no more than the rest of us do. I mean, accidents happen.”

Prompto frowned and continued to fidget with his arm brace. “Yeah, sure…”

This was not how Noctis had wanted to start this off. Maybe if he started all over again, just dove right in to what he really wanted to talk about. That would work, _right?_

“Why don’t we ever talk about the _important_ stuff?” Noctis asked. “Like your parents being gone for so long, or how you were working _two_ jobs to pay the bills, or how you were having to pay the bills for your house. I mean, I barely got you to tell me about the diner job.”

Prompto tensed a little more and kept his eyes focused on his lap. He frowned, biting his lower lip so hard that Noctis was sure he was about to make it bleed. The guy probably couldn’t have looked any more pitiful if he’d tried.

_Crud, everything came out sounding way too accusatory._

“Or,” Noctis continued, watching Prompto flinch at the sound of his voice, “why I acted like such a horrible friend earlier and wouldn’t come near you when we found you hurt, or why I bailed on going to the medical wing with you.” Noct paused, wondering if he could keep going, but realizing that if he really wanted to start talking about the important stuff with Prompto, that meant he had to share his struggles as well. “Why don’t we talk about how I sometimes have nightmares that wake me up in the middle of the night, just like the one you had earlier. How Ignis used to sit with me so that I wasn’t alone, so that someone was there to talk me through the panic…about how I was so scared of not being able to walk again…that I’d always just be helpless and broken after the Marilith attacked me.” Noctis paused as Prompto looked up, meeting his gaze. “I can’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to, but, would it be okay if I talked about some important stuff…and, maybe, if you wanted, you could tell me some stuff too?”

For a long while, Prompto didn’t move. He seemed to be frozen in place, staring at Noctis, as if his brain couldn’t process or handle what had been said.

_Maybe this was too much?_

Feeling his cheeks warm, Noctis turned away from those unblinking blue eyes. 

_Maybe we aren’t the kind of friends who talk about the big stuff…_

“I…uh…I know my parents love me.” Prompto’s voice was soft, tinged with a composed sorrow. “But I don’t think they wanted to have children originally. I saw their journals documenting their early research. They had so many plans. They were going to do so many good things. I just kind of fell into their lives.” 

Noctis looked up, surprised to see Prompto was no longer staring back at him. Instead, the blond let his gaze drift off, not really settling on anything in particular as he spoke. He was staring off into the distance, somehow looking tranquil, even with that forlorn smile that he held.

“They stopped their research when they took me in,” Prompto said, the sadness starting to glitter in his eyes a bit. “To pay the bills, they worked various part-time jobs. Work that let them stay in the city, let them stay close to me, but it wasn’t the life that had called to them, that they had wanted from the start.” Prompto let out a miserable, muffled chuckle. “They never would have told me that, of course, but I could hear their sadness when they’d talk about the research they’d started in their youth. So, when I was eight and they were approached by a firm to do a few weeks of research outside of Insomnia, in the countryside, to study why vast areas of farmlands were drying up, why the plants were riddled with disease, I refused to let them turn it down. I just…I didn’t want to be the one to keep them from doing what they loved.”

Prompto sniffled and a lone tear streaked down his face, but he was quick to wipe it away, to shift ever so slightly so that he was turned away from Noctis.

“It wasn’t so bad,” Prompto continued, “My parents asked our neighbor, Clara to watch over me. She’d come stay at our house for a few days or a week, and then mom and dad would return. After a while, though, they started traveling more and more, and Clara started getting a little more forgetful. Her eyesight started going a bit too. Pretty soon I was taking care of her, and she’d stopped coming to stay at our house altogether.”

“Why didn’t you tell your parents?” Noctis asked, although he thought he already knew why. Still, a part of him wanted to press these gentle questions, to keep his friend talking and opening up.

Prompto flopped back on the bed, giving a little pained groan as he stared up at the ceiling. “They were so happy being able to do their research again, and, well, I knew if I told them that they would stop traveling, that they would stay with me, and they would give up doing what they loved to keep me happy. So, I just didn’t tell them. Gradually, I think they realized, but, by then, I was really good at looking after myself and it was easy to convince them to keep doing their research. They usually wired me plenty of money to make sure all the bills were paid. They are actually kinda clueless when it comes to money. Sometimes they got confused and wired me too much…they’ve stranded themselves outside of Insomnia several times with no money in their pockets because of that. But, sometimes they both thought the other had wired the money, and I just found ways to pay the bills. It’s not usually so bad because they aren’t usually gone for as long as this last time.”

“I wished I’d known sooner that you were alone so much,” Noctis huffed, and then flopped down beside Prompto, so that they were both staring blankly up at the ceiling. “Why didn’t you say anything? You could’ve come over more often to hang out.”

Prompto’s sigh was drawn out, deep. “Dude, we like just started hanging out. I didn’t want to seem all clingy and weird. Plus,” his voice dropped to something just above a whisper, “I don’t like people thinking anything bad about my parents. I know them traveling a lot seems wrong, but…they are such good people…and I just…They’ve done so much for me. I don’t think it was easy when they adopted me. I think I was…I dunno…I just think I might have been a bit messed up before them, you know? I don’t think it was an easy decision to take me in and love me, but they did.”

_Messed up? What did that mean?_

“Before them? Is that what your nightmares are about?” The questions were out of Noctis’ mouth before he realized it, and though a part of him wished he could’ve taken them back, he honestly wanted to know.

“I think something bad happened,” Prompto went silent and turned his head toward Noctis. His gaze was so haunted and sad. “I’m afraid that there is some truth in those nightmares…that…maybe the pain…the fear…those screams…” He paused, swallowing hard, looking away again from Noct. He’d pulled his arms to his chest and was clutching at his shoulders so that he was hugging himself. “I’m sorry, but can we talk about something else for a bit?”

Feeling shaky with these new revelations, Noctis nodded, but then realized Prompto wasn’t looking at him and couldn’t see his gesture. “Yeah, and, uh…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you talk about it…I shouldn’t have…”

“No,” Prompto said, cutting him off. “I’m glad we’re talking about the _important_ stuff. I’ve never had anyone besides my parents to really talk to about stuff, and they were away so much, and I didn’t want to tell them about how lonely the house was, so this is nice, just a bit much all at once, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Noctis agreed. He’d barely divulged to Prompto his own worries, fears and memories of his past that troubled him, and that small spiel he did reveal was kind of exhausting, so he could understand what Prompto meant. “You ready to tackle that boss now?” 

Prompto sat up, smile returning. “Oh man, you bet!”

“Just…um…one last thing before we start. I just need to know…” Noctis shifted, giving his friend the most solemn stare he could manage.

Prompto tensed again, seemingly holding his breath as he waited.

“What is up with all your Chocobo boxers? You must have like a hundred pairs.” 

The blond lowered his head with a groan. “Dude, not cool!” He looked up then, a smile back in place. “My mom gets me Chocobo underwear every year for my birthday and Christmas…and sometimes Arbor Day.”

Noctis chuckled. “Why Arbor Day?”

“Dude, I have _no_ idea. I think it was some sort of weird inside joke her and my dad have. Every Arbor Day, they wrap a few presents and hang them in a tree out in the backyard for me to find in the morning. I didn’t know that wasn’t a thing until I was like ten.”

“Your parents are odd,” Noctis said, grinning, “but in a good way, I think. It’s probably what made you so…you.”

Prompto scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean? So me? That’s, like, not an insult, right?”

_Aw heck, how to explain Prompto to Prompto?_

“You’re goofy,” Noctis said, smirking at the way his friend instantly started pouting, “but in a way that seems calculated, a way that puts people at ease, keeps them from bickering with each other or feeling stressed. That kind of feels like something you might have learned from your parents.”

Prompto nodded slowly, sadness again paining his expression. “Do you think they are okay?”

Noctis thought for a moment. He wanted so badly to offer his friend comfort, but…

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly, “I hope so though, and I know Gladio and Ignis won’t stop looking until they find them.”

Prompto smiled again, but it was a forced, pitiful thing, something that was surely more for Noctis’ sake than his own. 

“Can we start playing again? I think I need the distraction right now,” Prom asked, and Noctis was quick to pick up his controller and oblige. 

As they started the game though, Noctis made a mental note to speak with Ignis and Gladio about Prompto's past. He still couldn't get over the fact there was just no records giving any clues to Prompto first year of life. Surely, they had overlooked _something._

 

******

 

Regis knew exactly where he’d find Cor. 

The news of Prompto’s injuries, of his missing parents had finally reached the King, and as soon as he had a spare moment, he sought out the one man he knew had to be suffering in guilty silence. 

The door to Cor’s office was, as expected, locked.

“Open up.” It wasn’t a command, but Regis would make it one if necessary. He knew his old friend too well to let him sulk in misery for long. He would become a brutal taskmaster during his training sessions if he was allowed to stew in his own guilt and anger, and though many a Crownsguard would just attribute that to the Immortal being the Immortal, Regis knew better.

The door creaked open and Cor stepped aside to let his King enter.

“I didn’t expect a visit, Your Highness. Do you have some urgent business?” The words came out dull and lifeless. The somnambulant movements of the Immortal as he slunk back to his desk only added to the feeling of weary tension in the room.

“I heard about the boy and his parents.” Regis replied, sitting in the overstuffed chair that he knew Cor had brought to his office solely to make his King comfortable during their meetings. It was a kindness Regis was grateful for. The weight of his duty hung heavy upon him this day, and his body ached with the pull of magic the wall took from him. The comfort of the cool, cushioned seat granted him at least a minor reprieve for his aching body.

The Immortal nodded, sitting at his desk only after he watched his King take a seat first. 

“I’ve got a lead on their whereabouts, but it will take some time to get a proper search team in place. It appears as if Lillian found herself a guide and went into the Boulves Mines. There is word that she may have been trying to find access to an underwater stream that ran through the mines. I guess something was contaminating the water source underground before it ran to the surface. When she didn’t reappear from the mines on schedule, Ulnic was sent word. He hired a couple of Hunters to go into the mines with him to find Lillian, but they have reportedly not yet returned.” Cor paused, something dark and knowing flashing in his eyes. “That was over two weeks ago.”

Regis shrugged. That was hardly good news. Few would survive so long in the mines for that long without the proper provisions and training. 

“Would you pour me a drink?”

Cor blinked at the King’s request, but then nodded and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of Tenebrae whisky from the cabinet behind his desk.

It had been a long while since they’d shared a nip of something in Cor’s office. Free time was a rarity nowadays, and with his ailing body, the King rarely partook any more, but…

“Bring out the box too.” Regis added. He was sure the man had already been pouring through the thing earlier. His locked door was a sure sign of that. 

Again, Cor nodded as he handed a glass of whiskey to Regis, but he was slower with his movements as he unlocked one of the larger drawers on his desk and pulled out a fair sized leather-bound box. 

Cor set the box carefully upon his desk and then strode back across the room to lock his office door. 

Regis took a sip of his drink, savoring the rich flavor, sighing contently at the familiarity of it. He was taking his second sip as Cor opened the leather-bound box. 

As if handling a delicate treasure, Cor pulled the stack of photos out. A sad smile adorned the man’s face as he fondly stared at the top picture. Without looking, Regis already knew what the image was. Cor always kept the oldest picture at the top of the stack.

Eventually, Cor handed the picture to Regis.

It was a little grainy, that image of the toddler hugging the fuzzy, stuffed Chocobo, but those brilliant blue eyes, so inquisitive and innocent, had been captured so beautifully in that moment. A smile, shy but warm, graced the boy’s expression. 

The next photo Cor handed over was of Prompto, maybe around three years old, dressed up as a Moogle for Halloween. Another was of the boy on his fifth birthday, blowing out the candles on his hot rod cake.

Regis and Cor kept looking through the images, commenting every now and then, but, for the most part, they stayed silent. It had been a long time since they’d sat down and looked through the box together, taking stock of Prompto’s life. 

It had started out as a necessity. Regis, more than Cor, had trepidation about what side effects Prompto might suffer as a result of how and why he was created. The concern wasn’t just for the boy though. As King, Regis had to take into consideration that the youth could still pose a threat to the city. He doubted very much that was the case, but his duty kept him overly vigilant.

So, Lillian and Ulnic were tasked with sending Cor updates on the boy, and Cor, in turn, shared these with Regis. 

Over the years though, Regis took note of how that leather-bound box had become a sort of prized possession to the Marshal, and with each new letter and set of pictures delivered, Regis felt any remaining unease about Prompto defuse. 

He was a child – a happy, healthy, loving child who didn’t seem to have a vicious bone in his body.

Even with the revelation though, neither man suggested the correspondence halt. No, the updates had become cathartic in a way. Amidst the threat of war and pressures of duty, the men could look on this one child, this being plucked from despair, and take heart in the fact he was who he was – that he was safe and loved and happy. 

Cor reached the bottom of the box, pulling out the floral stationary with the flowing calligraphy.

“If not for this, we may have done something very foolish,” Cor sighed. There was tightness in his voice. It was something Regis immediately felt in his chest as well upon seeing the letter.

_The letter from Lady Lunafreya._

It had appeared on Regis’ desk, quite mysteriously, almost a year and a half before Noctis started high school. Though he’d thoroughly questioned all his guards, no one had seen the messenger who’d delivered the letter.

It read, quite simply: 

_‘I send to you tidings of my elation over knowing Prince Noctis has so many people who both love and care for him. His journey will be long and full of struggle, so those who would stand by him are of great importance. I know that he is close with both Ignis Scientia and Gladiolus Amicitia and that he has a new friend, Prompto Argentum. Bestowed upon these four and their friendship, I give all the blessings that I can. I believe it is with them that Eos’ future lies.’_

At the time, they could not fathom the meaning. As far as they knew, Prompto Argentum and Noctis had no contact with each other whatsoever, but Lady Lunafreya had specifically called them friends. How did she even know about Prompto? 

Long before then, Regis and Cor had, when both Prompto and Noctis started attending the same elementary school, a debate on whether or not request to the Argentums to send their child to a different school. After all, was it wise to have him grow up near the Prince? What if they became friends? Wouldn’t that put Prompto in the spotlight? What would happen if his ties to Niflheim came out? Noctis would suffer as well as Prompto. 

In the end, they compromised and merely made sure the boys never had the same classes. There was little chance in a friendship developing if they never saw each other.

And then the letter from Lady Lunafreya appeared, baffling both Regis and Cor.

The message made little sense, but it made them pause their efforts at keeping the boys separated. If the Six had their hands in the turn of this friendship, then to obstruct it was a fool’s undertaking.

After Noctis’ first day of high school, it really shouldn’t have been such a shock for Regis to hear of Noctis’ new friend. He’d known for some years the day would come when Prompto Argentum would be a part of his son’s life. The Oracle herself had written him as much, and yet, there was still that sense of disbelief. 

How had this being, so nearly swept up into darkness and misery, so cruelly brought into this world, and created for such hurtful and cruel purposes become something so vital to Eos? The Six surely worked in mysterious ways…

“How is the boy?” Regis asked at last, breaking the silence that had engulfed the two men.

“I…I haven’t visited him yet,” Cor answered. “He doesn’t know me, Regis. It would be awkward.”

Regis handed back the photos, watching Cor carefully sort them and place them back in their box.

“Yes,” he replied, “I imagine it might be a bit awkward, and you’re right. He doesn’t really know you.” Regis paused, reclining a bit in his chair, eyeing his old friend as the man locked his treasure back within the confines of his desk. “But he could.”

Cor was silent a moment, his gaze fixed on the desk draw. Then, the edges of his mouth quirked ever so slightly upward. “I suppose so.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry...haven't posted in a couple weeks...lots of power outages and internet issues in my area...gonna post this while I have the chance! It's extra long to make up for the wait. :) (But not fully proofread...just a fair warning...)

That familiar frantic rush came to Prompto as he awoke. 

_Am I late? What day is it? Which paper route do I have today? Is it a school day? Did I do my homework?_

He sat up quickly, wincing at the pain in his arm and leg before he groggily scanned the room. Though it was dark, with the morning light barely penetrating through the thick curtains over the windows, Prompto could still see that he was certainly _not_ in his bedroom.

Gradually, the panic subsided as he recalled where he was and what had happened. There was nothing requiring him to get out of bed. It was Sunday. He was not able to work, and even his morning jog was off the table. Ignis had made it a point to repeatedly remind him of that.

Prompto sighed, slinking back down and wrapping himself tightly in the warm blankets that he’d been cocooned in all night. 

He was alone. Gladio had carted the slumbering Noctis off late the night before. Rather comically, the Prince had fallen asleep sitting up, with his hands still clutching his controller.

Prompto had been fighting off sleep until that point, but, after Noctis’ departure, and the pain pill Ignis forced him to take, there was no chance that he could avoid sleep any longer. 

Though he’d slept fairly deep, Prompto was still vaguely aware of the guest room door occasionally creaking open, of a dim, warm light streaming into the room from that open door, and the sound of quiet footsteps coming near and then retreating.

Twice he was able to see the figure, but only once did he see the familiar face. It was Ignis. 

Ignis was checking in on him! The thought was both embarrassing and incredibly reassuring. Prompto hated that he was forcing yet another obligation on Ignis, and yet it stilled his fear somehow too. If he needed someone, if he had a nightmare, Ignis would find him. He wouldn’t be alone. Thankfully though, no nightmares came.

Prompto wiped some sleep from his eyes and yawned. 

It was still early, and, with nothing else to do, he instinctively reached for his phone on the nightstand, but realized it wasn’t there.

_Oh yeah…broken…that’s right. Ignis took it to see if it could be repaired._

Closing his eyes, he focused on how warm and comfortable he felt, despite the slight ache in his arm and leg. 

_No wonder Noct never wants to get up in the morning. I wouldn’t either if I always got to sleep in a bed like this!_

And yet, even as his body begged him to stay encased in this sense of security, warmth and comfort, his mind was already wandering, sprinting from thought to thought, peaking curiosities and stirring worry.

_Are Ignis and Gladio up? What time is my appointment at the medical center? Should I get up? What if I’m late? When do I have to take the next potion?_

He shifted in the bed, uncertainly toying with him. Being so used to taking care of himself, he couldn’t help but feel that his current inactivity was wrong somehow. 

In one swift move, he flung the covers away and shivered in the morning air. His thoughts weren’t going to let him sleep any long, so, he might as well get up, _right?_

After planting his feet on the floor, he hobbled to the dresser he’d seen Ignis carefully put his clothes in the day before. It took him only a moment to grab what he needed and start his slow trek to the bathroom. 

Taking a shower took longer than he’d hoped, but the hot water felt so good on his aching muscles. Hair still damp, he limped back to the bed. Getting dressed had been a slight challenge, and the arm and leg brace had been harder to get back on than he’d thought they would be. 

_Probably would’ve been a good idea to pay attention a little more when Ignis was showing me how these worked._

Prompto frowned down at the brace on his leg. The nylon straps were a zig-zagged mess. No doubt Ignis would have a conniption fit when he saw the disaster that Prompto had made of it. At least it was holding everything in place like it was supposed to, so that was a kind of a win.

For a moment, Prompto stood staring at the door, wondering if he should wander out and try to find someone, but what would he do after he found them? Tell them he’s bored? That he doesn’t know what to do? That he’s lonely or kind of weirded out by being in this place all by himself? He could always lie and say he was hungry, but he wasn’t really. Ignis had made sure he was stuffed silly at dinner the night before. 

With a sigh, he set about making the bed, as it seemed the only thing that really needed doing at the moment. He was sure there was probably a maid or something that came around to clean the rooms, but he felt the need to at least try to pick up after himself. 

It took a long while to get the bed looking slightly presentable. Although, it really didn’t look near as nice as it had when Prompto first arrived. The pillows looked out of sorts and the blanket weren’t quite as smooth, but he figured it wasn’t that bad for a guy sporting two braces. 

“You’re awake.” 

After letting a slight yelp out, Prompto turned to find that Ignis had been standing behind him. Arms crossed, the Advisor’s gaze flickered from the arm and leg brace, to Prompto’s wet hair and then to the bed.

“And it seems you’ve been busy this morning.” A small sigh escaped from Ignis, as his gaze again dipped toward Prompto’s right leg. “Shall I help you with the braces? If you keep them as they are now, I’m afraid you will lose circulation in your limbs after an hour or so.”

_Oh, yeah…that would be a problem…_

Sheepishly, Prompto sat on the bed, giving Ignis better access to the leg brace.

“I should have realized you’d be an earlier riser,” Ignis said, as he leaned down and set to work on the brace, “after all, you were constantly up early for your paper routes.” He had the brace straightened, the straps uniformly secured in their crisscross pattern, before he shifted to the arm brace. “Noctis is up so late in the mornings, so you are a bit of a contrast to the usual morning routine of which I have grown accustomed.”

“Uh, sorry…” Prompto muttered, wondering if he should just crawl back into bed and hide. “I know you were up late…looking in on me, so…I’m sorry about that too…you didn’t have to. I would’ve been fine, but it was nice of you to do…and…uh…” He fumbled on his words, as he felt his face flush warm. 

“It was no problem,” Ignis replied softly. “I was up late working on some paperwork that I’d been neglecting, and my office isn’t far. Plus, it eased my mind to peek in and make you sure were still comfortable. I hope I didn’t disturb your slumber at all. Additionally, as for your habit of rising early, please don’t take the comment as me chastising you. It is quite the contrary. Making breakfast at a decent hour, instead of at ten o’ clock, would be rather refreshing. I find early morning cooking to be quite relaxing, but it is never the same when I simply do it solely for myself.” 

“O-okay? I’m happy to help?” Prompto answered, still unsure if Ignis meant this, or if he was just being nice. He had the sinking feeling that he was turning into a bit of a charity case.

“Shall we go to the kitchen? Perhaps you would like to help me prepare breakfast? I would like to try my hand at a new omelet recipe. It will be a lighter dish. I’m afraid I may have overindulged last night with dinner.”

Prompto grinned. Leave it to Iggy to be a frigging mind reader. It was like he just knew that the blond needed something to do, that he needed to feel helpful.

“Yeah,” he answered, shifting off the bed and taking a few hobbled steps toward the door. He was brought to a halt though as Ignis loudly cleared his throat.

Turning back, Prompto found the Advisor had snagged the wheelchair from the corner of the room and was now presenting it before him.

“I believe Doctor Sharah asked that you remain off that leg as much as possible this week. Perhaps it would be prudent to use the chair?”

_Oh yeah…_

After Prompto was seated, Ignis wheeled him out the room and down the hall toward the kitchen. They kept up a light, pleasant conversation, even as they arrived at the kitchen and started cooking. Ignis situated Prompto at the table, asking him to cut up tomatoes, mushrooms and onions. The Advisor then started cracking eggs and gathering the spices needed for the recipe.

Gladio joined them not long after that, the big man offering to make some fresh orange juice. The notion seemed odd to Prompto somehow. He’d never had fresh squeezed orange juice at home. It all came out of a carton. Actually juicing the fruit? Wasn’t that something that super fancy people did? Oh…oh yeah… he was at the Citadel – which was like the ground zero of fancy people.

For a ‘small’ breakfast, Ignis had outdone himself. There was bacon, toast, sliced fruit and these amazing omelets that Ignis had crafted. If not for Gladio, they would have had no chance in finishing off the meal. 

Noctis was still, unsurprisingly, absent. Ignis only shrugged at that, saying that he would prepare another breakfast once the Prince of Lethargy finally arose. 

When they had finished eating, Ignis cleared the table and washed the dishes as Gladio and Prompto chatted. Again, the banter was light-hearted and easy, and Prompto felt relaxed…that was until Ignis announced that it was time to start making their way to the medical center for his appointment.

Even though he knew he was only going to get his next potion dose, there was a faint, deep-seeded terror that stirred within Prompto. 

He knew he’d gone too silent as they traveled to the center. Both Ignis and Gladio seemed to be trying their hardest to engage him in conversation, and though he felt badly for leaving them hanging, he couldn’t bring himself to join the banter.

They reached the center, were escorted to an examination room, and were told that the doctor would be in to see them shortly.

“Prompto,” Ignis said at last, and, from his perch upon the examination table, Prompto offered a lopsided grin back at the man. “You realize there is nothing to be concerned about, right? Your recovery is going quite well. Dr. Sharah will merely want to look you over very briefly before giving you your next potion dose. Then she will hand over a package with your remaining dosages for the rest of the week. With any luck, we may only need to do one more follow up visit after this one.”

Grin held forcefully in place, Prompto nodded. “Yeah…yeah…it’s all good…” He said, hoping the words weren’t hampered too badly by the fact that his heart was trying to pound its way out of his chest. 

Gladio scoffed, “That really doesn’t sound reassuring. What’s bugging you, kid?”

Prompto shrugged, he could feel his smile slipping away, but he didn’t force it to remain. “I-I just get a little nervous around doctors and medical facilities…it’s just….I don’t know…it’s stupid I guess…”

“Nonsense,” Ignis replied softly, “This same anxiety plagues Noctis. He has no love of the medical facility, I can assure you. I believe this is a quite common fear, so there is no need for apologies. Just know that we are here for you if you need anything.”

“Yeah,” Prompto answered, “thanks, Iggy…”

A gentle knock at the door announced Dr. Sharah’s arrival. After a quick greeting, she set to work examining Prompto – listening to his heartbeat, taking his temperature, checking his blood pressure, asking about his night. She smiled kindly, and spoke gently with Prompto, inquiring if he was a little nervous – that his heart rate was just a bit high. 

“I…I’m a little…um…scared of doctors,” he replied quietly, not daring to look the woman in eye as he admitted that. 

She chuckled softly, “Honestly, I’m not too fond of visiting doctors either. So, I understand, but you are in luck. This should be a short visit. You are doing very well.” She paused to hand him a vial. “Just drink this and we’re done. I’ll send the case of remaining dosages to Ignis later today.”

He did as he was told and drank the small bit of potion, and that warm, healing ache took over his body again. It ended too soon though, and he was left feeling the need for that healing to be complete.

Dr. Sharah turned her attention to Ignis, as she explained that Prompto should be in the clear from here on out, but there were instances of people having delayed reactions, and if he showed any signs of distress, they were to call her immediately.

After giving Prompto one last reassuring pat on the shoulder, the Doctor told them that they were free to go. It seemed to take forever though, for them to get situated – with Prompto back in his chair, before they were heading out the door.

Even with as gentle as Sharah was, Prompto still felt a wave of tension leaving him as Gladio wheeled him down the hall, away from the medical center. Ignis parted ways with them not long after they’d left, stating that he felt the need to ensure Noctis was still alive and not in some coma of slumber.

As they reentered the guest room, a warm wave of exhaustion crept over Prompto, but he didn’t want to give in to it. He knew it had to do with the taking the potion. Dr. Sharah had explained that patients tended to sleep a lot more when they were on the dosage regiment for the potions – their bodies were eager to finish the healing that was started, draining away any excess energy in the process.

Still, Prompto didn’t want to nap just yet. He hadn’t even seen Noctis yet, and a nap _before_ lunchtime? That just felt wrong. Heck, Prompto rarely took naps at all. He just didn’t have time for them.

He felt a flood of relief when Gladio suggested they start playing a video game. Of course, Gladio tended to favor the old school platforming games that Prompto and Noctis had long since abandoned, but that was fine. Honestly, playing these ‘old school’ games with Gladio was really fun – especially the part where Prompto kept calling them ‘old school’ just so he could see that indignant look on the Shield’s face. 

“This was like my favorite game when I was thirteen,” Gladio huffed. “It is not old school. I’m not that old…”

Prompto merely chuckled, noting that the big guy was only feigning anger. 

They played on until lunch time, when Noctis finally managed to join them. 

Ignis ushered them all to the kitchen then, and Prompto’s mouth watered as he took in the aroma of grilled sandwiches and a thick tomato soup. 

Sitting at the table, Prompto gave a happy little sigh as he took his first bite of the warm sandwich. The bread was toasted perfectly. The cheese was warm, but not scalding. It was melted and creamy and paired so well with the thin slices of ham. There were flavors that Prompto didn’t recognize. Ingredients he could begin to decipher, but he could taste each, noting how well the whole of the recipe puzzled itself together. 

He still felt utterly amazed that this was just a normal meal for these three. That Noctis had grown up eating food this type of stuff all the time. Prompto couldn’t even imagine how awesome that had to have been.

No one seemed to note Prompto dreamily munching away, and as he tuned back in to the conversation the others were having, he realized Ignis was lecturing Noctis on his sleep habits. 

The Prince merely shrugged and started picking his sandwich apart. Apparently, he was not a fan of the crust. This only elicited another eye roll from Ignis.

The very second they’d all finished eating, Noctis was quick to get Prompto back into his chair and wheel him to the guestroom. The allure of the new video game, it seemed, was too much for Noct, but, then again, Prompto felt the same way. The graphics were amazing!

They had been playing for almost three hours when Ignis started visiting, announcing an emergency Council Meeting that required the Prince’s attention. Noct, for his part, seemed to totally ignore the news four times before Ignis threatened to forcibly drag him away from the game. 

It was, Noct explained, not an idle threat. Ignis had done it before. 

After one last groan, Noctis paused the game and then stood and stretched.

Prompto reclined back onto his bed. If he was being honest with himself, he really was exhausted, and some small part of him was thankful Noct had some business to attend to. This meant that he wouldn’t have to find a way to tactfully ask to put the game on hold so he could nap. 

Of course, Noct announced that he was not about to leave Prompto all alone. The Prince made it perfectly clear, declaring that he would not step foot outside of the room unless either Ignis or Gladio stayed behind.

It was a nice gesture, but Prompto really didn’t see the point in it. 

All he was going to do was sleep, and he really didn’t think he needed company for that. In fact, he was kind of thinking he’d prefer not to have someone in the room just watching him as he slept. That was really weird, but after Noctis’ drawn out argument with Ignis and Gladio – which the Prince, of course, won, Prompto didn’t have the heart to speak up against the arrangements they’d come to. 

Ignis and Noctis eventually departed, with Noct promising to return as soon as he could. 

“You look tired,” Gladio said softly. “You should get some sleep while you can. If Noct comes back too soon, I’ll take him down to the training room so he can burn off some of his energy.”

Prompto grinned back at the big guy, but in lieu of a thank you, he found himself yawning sleepily and nodding.

_I guess it’s not too bad having someone around looking out for me while I sleep…_

The Shield pulled a book from the satchel he’d been toting around. Plopping into a chair, Gladio thumbed open a page and started intently reading. 

Pulling up the covers, Prompto snuggled into his pillow. His eyes burned, and his eyelids felt uncomfortably heavy. Letting them slide shut, he listened to the sounds of the room – of Gladio breathing, of the clock in the corner, the quiet rustle of a page being turned. It didn’t sound like home, and yet it was undeniably comforting.

Knowing Gladio was nearby, knowing he was somewhere safe, that Noct would be back – wanting to play games and joke around, and that Ignis would cook another delicious meal for dinner – it all felt so unreal, so wonderful. 

Feeling incredibly blessed, Prompto slowly drifted off to sleep.

 

*****

 

Cor waited until Noctis’ duties called him away from his friend’s side. The wait was longer than he had planned though, and it wasn’t until late in the afternoon that Cor found himself gently knocking on Prompto’s door. 

“Come in,” a gruff, low voice called from within.

_He’s not alone…_

Of course, Cor hadn’t expected the blond would be. The kid had been through a lot, and his friends were rallying around him, offering all the comfort and protection possible. 

Cor entered, finding Gladio seated beside Prompto’s bed with his nose in a book. The man didn’t bother to look up, but Cor suspected he knew who was visiting and was actively snubbing him. Their encounter the previous day obviously still grated on Gladio. Amicitias, after all, knew how to hold grudges. 

Blind duty had Cor questioning why the Prince’s Shield was not as his rightful place – protecting the Prince, but he quieted that voice in his head that enforced those royal obligations. Besides, if he had to guess, Noctis had probably only agree to leave Prompto’s side if either Ignis or Gladio stayed with the boy, and, seeing as Gladio had been less than attentive at the last Chamber Meeting, Ignis was the more prudent choice for the Prince to take. 

Realizing Gladio intended to finish whatever passage he was on in his book and was in no rush to do so, Cor shrugged and turned his gaze toward the blond.

Looking peaceful, breathing rhythmic, Prompto was curled up in the blankets, sleeping soundly. 

It was upon seeing the young man sleeping so contently that Cor felt a wash of hesitation overtake him. Perhaps speaking with Prompto was a mistake? Did he really want to disrupt what little happiness he’d managed to find at this time? 

Gladio nonchalantly looked up. The man’s gaze was wary, a question almost visibly written on his face.

_What do you want?_

The big man seemed to tense, his gaze narrowing on Cor. To the untrained eye, Gladio might have look relaxed, seated as he was, but it was obvious to Cor that the man was in full out protection mode, ready to take action if he needed. Rather than seeing the threat before him though, Cor could only see a man concerned for a friend. Honestly, it was reassuring to see how strong this bond was. Cor could see the wisdom in Lady Lunafreya’s words now.

“I was hoping to speak with Prompto,” Cor said at last, though he felt the words sounded hollow somehow. He did want to speak with the boy, but everything he really wanted to say, he felt he could not. 

Gladio gave a low hum – something that hinted of disapproval. “About what, exactly?”

“I believe I’ve acquired the possible location of his parents. Search parties are forming to look for them as we speak.”

“Where?” Voice low, questions short, Gladio was making it more than clear he was not enjoying Cor’s visit.

“The Boulves Mines.”

Gladio let out a hissed curse as he set his book aside. “How long have they been down there?”

Cor hesitated, eyeing Prompto, worrying that their conversation wasn’t the best thing for the boy to wake up to. Finally, satisfied that the kid was dead asleep, he spoke. “Lillian has been down there three weeks. Ulnic went to find her. He’s been gone over two weeks now. There was a small band of hunters, perhaps two or three, with each, but they certainly didn’t carry enough supplies for an extended stay.”

Gladio groaned, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair, and for a long while the only sound in the room was the even, calm breathing of Prompto as he slept.

“I’ll tell him,” Gladio muttered at last. “You can go.”

It was an out, an escape from having to be the one to crush Prompto with this news, and yet…

“No.” Cor answered softly. “ _I_ will tell him. You may go. I know you would probably like to make the evening training with the Glaives.”

A gruff, almost angry chuckle escaped from Gladio. “He doesn’t know you. What makes you think that you can just…”

“Lillian and Ulnic are my friends,” Cor interjected. “You do not know them. They are just names to you right now. You don’t know her smile, his stupid laugh that sounds like a dying Chocobo.” Cor paused, trying to restrain his grief once again. _What if they really were dead?_ The thought was abrasive, relentless resurfacing. It was a crushing weight repeatedly striking his chest, taking his breath away. It would lift for a while but then return again. The pain was sharp and fresh each time, and yet he kept clinging to hope – no matter how futile it seemed. “You don’t know how great they were to Prompto. How much they loved…” He paused, the error of his words turning his blood cold. “…love him.”

Gladio opened his mouth as if he was going to respond, but nothing came out. 

“I’m glad to see the boy has such good friends,” Cor continued, “I believe he’ll need you in the days to come, but right now…” Cor paused, his thoughts stirring too many raw emotions. He was amazed at how level he’d managed to keep his voice, how he’d forced his tone to remain firm and calm. If he wasn’t careful, that facade would drop away. “…right now he needs someone with a connection to his parents. He needs to not be alone in his grief. He needs me.”

For almost a minute, Gladio just stared at Cor. He didn’t move. His expression, one of stern concentration, didn’t waiver. 

“Okay,” he said at last, rising from his chair, “just try not to upset him too much.” Striding past Cor toward the door, Gladio halted just long enough to give the Immortal one last steely glare. “or you’ll have to answer to me.” 

Cor offered a sad smile back. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jaw set, brow furrowed, Gladio turned away. His hands balled into tight fists as he exited the room, leaving Cor alone to stand awkwardly staring down at the blond dozing so peacefully in the large bed. 

Realizing that the youth didn’t appear to be about to wake any time soon, Cor made his way to the seat that Gladio had occupied and silently sat down. He considered taking out his phone and checking his e-mails, but he decided to abstain from anything that might be too mentally draining at the moment. He knew what was to come would have him exhausted enough by the end of the day.

After studying the room for a while, Cor’s boredom drew his attention to the book Gladio had been reading, _Mistress of the Morning._

It was a hardbound book, with the cover sleeve missing, so that the only hint of its contents was the small black title imprinted on the spine. 

Cor picked it up and opened to the first chapter. He skimmed a few pages and then skipped ahead a couple of chapters, smiling to himself as he read further into the burly Shield’s book. He would have never have pegged Gladio for a fan of romance novels.

“Hello?” 

Startled, Cor almost dropped the book. Glancing up, he saw Prompto sitting up in his bed, confusion clouding the boy’s expression as he stared back at Cor.

“Where is Gladio? Why…” Prompto paused, as if he wasn’t sure how to ask the question he’d started to form. He shifted, pulling a blanket closer to his chest. “Why are you here, sir?”

Cor cringed at the _sir._ It made sense, he guessed. Prompto didn’t really know him. He probably only knew of him. 

“I…” he paused, gathering his thoughts. “I am a friend of your parents.”

“I know,” Prompto answered softly. There was a tremble in his voice. “I heard Gladio talking to you on the phone. I-I thought maybe you might be…” 

Cor waited patiently, somewhat afraid of what the boy was trying to ask.

Big blue eyes were staring up at him, pleading. “Were you the one who found me when I was a baby? Who brought me to my parents…Lillian and Ulnic?”

The question was so direct, so clear and yet Cor didn’t know how to answer it. What could he tell the boy? The truth? It was so ugly, so much to take in. Prompto didn’t deserve that pain, and yet wasn’t there harm in not knowing as well? 

“I did.” Cor answered at last. “I found you…in Niflheim.”

Upon hearing that kingdom’s name, Prompto shut his eyes, causing rivulets of pent up tears to stream down his cheeks.

Cor sat, silently watching the youth as he pulled his knees to his chest and curled up into a ball, hugging his legs and burying his face in the tight tangle of limbs. After that, Prompto made no move save for the gentle, quiet, shuddering sobs that swept over him.

Perhaps Cor should have offered the boy some comfort – a hug, maybe a hand on his shoulder? Instead, he kept still, watching Prompto slowly regain his composure on his own. Some sad flicker of regret had Cor wishing he’d learned how to interact better with people. He wanted so badly to help Prompto, and yet, he was at a loss for how to go about that.

Looking up, red rimmed eyes fixed back on Cor, Prompt caught his breath and then dared to speak again. “What was it like where you found me?”

_No. He can’t know…not everything…_

“It wasn’t good,” Cor replied with a shrug.

Prompto waited, staring, obviously wanting more, but the boy seemed unable find his voice.

Cor met that stricken gaze, steeling his heart as much as he could, but still found it breaking. “It wasn’t good,” he repeated.

More tears escaped, rolling down flushed cheeks, but, this time, Prompto didn’t turn away. This time Cor witnessed the sorrowful desolation that overtook the normally chipper blond boy’s features.

“ _Why…?_ ” Prompto’s voice was a hoarse whisper, barely forming amongst his grief. “Why did you bring me back here?”

Cor tensed, surprised by the question. Why wouldn’t he have brought back a child in need? But, then his thoughts strayed to the children left behind in that facility. They hadn’t been so lucky. How many had he left to die, to be tortured, to be turned into monsters?

He wouldn’t tell Prompto about the others. That would have been too much. It would have been too hard to understand.

“I…I saw you all alone, looking so small,” Cor started softly, “and I picked you up, and you held on to me so tight…so _very_ tight. I couldn’t put you back down...I couldn’t leave you in _that_ place.” A gentle, sad chuckle broke through, sounding so off amongst his melancholy tone. “The alarms were going off…we had to leave…and you just kept holding on, as if your little life depended on it…and, I guess, it did.”

Prompto kept his gaze on the Immortal, but his eyes had started to dry and his breathing was becoming more calm and rhythmic. 

“It was the best choice I ever made,” Cor added, and then closed his eyes, immersing himself in his memories. “You were a quiet baby. I was afraid that you were sick at first, but you weren’t.” Cor recalled how he’d almost made himself sick with worry as he fretted over the child. He honestly wasn’t sure if something that was so small, had been so neglected and experimented on could survive a long, arduous journey. “Travel was easy, for the most part. You were content riding in the sling, sleeping snug against my chest, but you’d leave a swathe of drool down my shirt. It was so gross.” Cor smiled and opened his eyes again, looking back to Prompto. “Your favorite thing was when I rented a Chocobo to take us back to Insomnia once we’d reached Lucis. You’d been so silent until then, and then you were nothing but a melody of giggles and laughter. I bought you Chirpy at an outpost after our Chocobo rental had ended, in hopes that you’d get to take a bit of that joy with you.”

Prompto smiled, it was a tender, fragile thing, but it was there nonetheless.

“I thought about keeping you,” Cor continued, fully aware of the shocked expression flickering across Prompto’s face. “I wanted to raise you…but, life doesn’t always give us what we want.” He leaned forward, holding his sad smile in place. “I realized you’d be in too much danger of being exposed as a…” He paused, stumbling over what he almost said – an experiment…maybe a weapon – and what he wanted to say. “…as someone from Niflheim. It would have been too dangerous, both for you and the Kingdom of Lucis. After all, it was unclear how Niflheim would react if word got back to them that a child of their kingdom had been smuggled across the border.” Cor only hoped Prompto didn’t catch that pause, that he hadn’t noted the near slip up in words. “Raising you within the Citadel would have been foolhardy, and I could not abandon my post, so I did the best I could for you.”

“You brought me to your friends…” Prompto finished. “…Lillian and Ulnic.”

“They had no ties to the Citadel besides me, and I had been fairly absent from their lives for some time,” Cor replied. “It was a lot for me to ask of them…just showing up on their doorstep with a baby, forcing a life altering decision on them with no warning, but I knew…I knew they would love you.”

For a moment, they were both silent, as Prompto seemed to be digesting all this new information. 

“Who else knows about me?” The boy asked at last. The words seem to hold such trepidation, as if he both wanted to know and didn’t all at once.

“The King,” Cor answered, not surprised as Prompto went a shade paler as he heard the answer. “But we are the only ones who know. We did not think it necessary or wise to tell more people.”

Seemingly encase in shock, Prompto sat, staring at Cor with his mouth slight agape. Taking in a shuddered breath, he finally peeled his gaze off the Immortal and stared, unblinking at his lap.

“The King?” Prompto whispered. “Knows…”

“He had known since your arrival. He was the first person I came to with you,” Cor replied. “I could not neglect my duty to inform him of what I had done, and I knew he would see you for what you were.”

At that, Prompto glanced up, meeting Cor’s gaze.

“You were a baby in need,” Cor added. “You were not an enemy. You had no loyalties or duty to anyone. You were a baby, full of warmth and love and happiness.” Cor paused to grin back at the boy. “He bounced you on his knee, laughing like a madman as you giggled. He saw so much of his son in you. After all, you and Noctis are so close in age.”

Prompto blinked and let out a breath he’d seemingly been holding, but he remained silent.

“After I left you with Lillian and Ulnic, they sent us updates on how you were doing,” Cor continued. “I looked forward to the letter and photos I received every month. Regis and I would sit down and open them together. I still have them all, locked away in my office, if you’d like to see them.”

“ _Oh…_ ” Only that one simple word managed to slip from Prompto as he continued to stare back at Cor.

_This is too much…the kid is shutting down, and I haven’t even told him about his parents being in the mine yet._

“Maybe I should go and let you get some more rest.” Cor stood, feeling suddenly very out of place.

“No!” Prompto replied quickly, something close to panic crossing his face before he calmed himself down. “I mean…I just…it’s a lot, but…I-I…I’m sorry. Please don’t go. Not yet. Please?”

Cor nodded and slowly sat back down.

“I’ve been scared for so long,” Prompto added quietly. “I was worried about what would happen if people found out.” He paused, holding up his wrist slightly. The wristband was covering the tattoo, but they both knew it was there. “I thought maybe I’d be locked up or sent away. I thought maybe I’d be sent to Niflheim…but I don’t know anything about that kingdom…that’s not my home.” Prompto’s voice broke a bit as spoke. “I didn’t think anyone would understand though…or maybe I was just afraid they wouldn’t…and now…” His brow furrowed and chin quivered slightly. “…and now I find out the King knew about me this whole time.”

An undeniable raw guilt seeded itself into Cor’s gut. He felt his insides twist and flutter as he listened to the boy. Of course Prompto had been suffering. How had they not considered how frightened he had to have been of being discovered? How had they overlooked something so important? Why had Ulnic and Lillian never mentioned this?

“I’m sorry,” Cor said at last. It came out strained, full of more emotion than he’d intended, but there was no altering that now. “We should have let you know…we should have been able to…”

“Nope,” Prompto replied, cutting Cor off. “No way…there was a Kingdom to run. There were probably a million different things going on that were _way_ more important than me.” A soft, frail smile found its way onto the boy’s face. “It would be pretty selfish of me to think the King of Lucis owed me something more after he let me stay in his kingdom, and you…” Prompto paused as if carefully deciding what to say next. “…you brought me here. You found me a family. I love them so much, and I love my life here in Insomnia. All I have for you is thanks. Thank you!”

It was Cor’s turn to be at a loss for words. As he stared back at Prompto beaming an intense, bright smile at him, there was nothing the man could think of to say. 

_How does this kid find that kind of strength? How does he manage to find the blasted silver lining in everything?_

“Plus,” Prompto added, his smile slipping slightly, “I know you are looking for my parents now, so I owe you a thank you for that as well. Have you…have you heard anything yet?”

_Damn…yeah, still have to tell him about that…_

“Prompto,” Cor shifted closer to the boy, “about your parents…”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I haven't given up on this crazy tale, time has just been hard to come by (plus I may have taken a few hours to play Episode Ignis). *grins* I'm thinking this piece should be under twenty chapters, so an end is in sight, but, for those of you who want more, I've got another story for this series in the chute. Enjoy!

Prompto tried to listen, he really did, but though Cor’s mouth kept moving, and Prompto was sure there were words being said, he heard nothing. 

It was a peculiar silence, as this odd sensation hummed in his head, blanketing his world in a muted buzz of disbelief and grief.

His thoughts repeatedly strayed to the initial news Cor had delivered to him of his parents – those few sentences playing over and over in his mind.

_“I believe that your parents are lost in the Boulves Mine. My sources say they’ve been down there several weeks. We have groups of Hunters and Glaives out searching the mines now, but…” Cor paused, the moment heavy with a sense of impending loss. “I just don’t know what we’ll find…We need to be prepared.”_

Entombed in sorrow and a swell of helplessness, Prompto felt sick. 

His apprehension had been mounting for weeks, but it had been easy to shake that dread away, to imagine he was wrong, that everything was fine, but now those fears were confirmed. 

Internally, he chastised himself, wondering why he hadn’t acted sooner. Why hadn’t he tried to get help? Why hadn’t he done something – anything?

_What should I have done?_

There was nothing. There was nothing he could have done. He knew that, and yet…

“Prompto?”

He blinked up at Cor, feeling warm streams of tears slide down his cheeks. He’d tried not to cry. He wanted to be strong, to be brave and face this news like a man, but that just wasn’t going to happen.

“I-I…don’t…I…” He choked back a sob, trying to compose himself and failing wretchedly. “They _can’t_ be dead.” He managed at last. “They _can’t._ I need them…I-I…” Prompto curled in on himself, hugging his knees tightly. “ _Mom…Dad…_ ” He mumbled, imagining them in trouble, scared, wounded, maybe already cold and lifeless, lost forever within the mine. 

Prompto didn’t react as warm arms enveloped him, as he was pulled into a stiff embrace. 

Eyes closed, he leaned into the new warmth. Save for that, he didn’t reciprocate the hug. He didn’t move to embrace the person comforting him. Was it Cor? It had to be Cor, and yet his muddled mind couldn’t settle on that fact.

Instead, he cried, listening to the soft, kind hushes whispered as the person holding him ever so gently and soothingly rocked back and forth.

How long he remained frozen in that state, Prompto wasn’t sure, but when his senses started to return, when he was able to halt his tears enough so that he could peer up with blurry vision at the man holding him, he was surprised to find Cor the Immortal with tears in his eyes as well.

Cor made no move to hide his face. Eyes rimmed with red, lashes wet, the man stared stoically back at Prompto. It was a weary grief that seemed to pain the man, and he freely let it show. 

All the stories Prompto had ever heard about Cor the Immortal somehow seemed so distant and foreign. This man was someone totally different.

“Lillian once took on a herd of Anak with nothing more than homemade stink bombs,” Cor whispered and then smiled ever so softly. “I hadn’t been there to stop her. I would have _never_ let her do something that dangerous, but,” Cor paused to sigh, “Perhaps even I wouldn’t have been able to stop her. She can be stubborn at times.”

Prompto sat up a little, pulling slightly away from Cor so that he could have a better view of the man as they spoke.

“Why did she…um…take on Anak with a stink bomb? Was she alone? Where was this?” Prompto asked, wiping his face with his sleeve. He’d known his mom could be stubborn but a badass? _Really?_

He knew the story was a distraction – something to focus and distract him from his grief. It was, perhaps, the kindest thing Cor could have done for him in that moment and he appreciated it greatly.

Cor’s smile grew ever so slightly. “It was a long time ago. Lillian and Ulnic had just graduated and were taking on just about any foolhardy, world changing work they could find. They were young, poor and still finding names for themselves in their fields of research. Lillian found herself trying to solve an issue with erosion near the River Wennath. It seems the rock levies put in place to keep the river from jumping its banks during the flooding season kept getting damaged. Apparently, a large herd of Anak was to blame.”

Prompto wiped his face once again and blinked back at Cor. “So, my mom went after them with _stink_ bombs?” 

The man’s laugh was deep but ended too soon. 

“Yes, that is pretty much what happened. She didn’t have the funds to hire hunters, and she thought she could make something that would mimic the smell of a Behemoth and drive the herd away.”

_That was frigging amazing!_

“Did it work?” Prompto asked, wondering why he’d never heard this story before. 

“Not even close,” Cor answered with a twisted grin. “You know that large scar on her left arm, near the elbow?”

Prompto nodded. “The one that looks like a big S?”

“Yeah, that’s the one,” Cor replied. “You see, Lillian didn’t take into account that Anak only run away about nine out of every ten times they smell Behemoth. Sometimes, they fight – savagely.”

“What did she do?” Prompto asked, starting to realize why he’d never heard this story before now.

“There was a rusty old car in a nearby field. Lillian managed to get to it and climb into the trunk. The Anak eventually gave up their attack on the car and wandered away, but the force of their attacks had fused the trunk lid shut.” Cor shifted, leaning back into his seat. “Lilian had to pry the backseat loose, pulling out all the cushions and springs before she could claw her way out of the vehicle. By then, she’d been missing for almost 36 hours.” He paused, a wry grin in place as he shook his head. “Your father was beside himself with worry.”

Prompto frowned. In all the stories his parents had ever told him of their early research, they had _never_ mentioned anything even remotely as cool as that. 

“Wait, is that why all mom’s friends give her Anak figurines – as a joke?” Prompto asked. He’d always thought that was a bit odd. 

Cor chuckled. “They still do that?”

Prompto nodded, wondering what else he didn’t know about his parents. “Why do dad’s friends call him…”

“Barry the Bandit?” Cor finished. “That…is a rather interesting story.”

Judging by the smirk on Cor’s face, it was also one Prompto needed to hear. 

“I think I’d like to hear it,” Prompto pleaded. “Please?”

For a moment, it looked as if Cor was going to shake his head no, but then the man gave a shrug and started talking once again.

“Apparently, a long time ago, there was a gentleman named Barry who ran a rather seedy ring of business in Lestallum. He and your father were strikingly alike in appearance, and that, on occasion, proved to cause Ulnic some problems when he visited Lestallum,” Cor answered. “Eventually, your father was recruited to help put an end to Barry’s ways. He was asked to intercept a few of Barry’s business deals with some of his less than regular contacts. Enough evidence was gathered to shut down Barry and imprison him. However, for years after that, whenever he was in Lestallum, hoodlums would still come up to your dad thinking he was Barry.”

_Okay, so that’s why he hates that nickname. I can understand that…_

“Honestly, besides their looks, Barry and your father were as different as night and day,” Cor continued, “Barry was a short tempered, vile man without an empathetic bone in his body, and your father is constantly helping others, calm and friendly. It seemed such a farce that anyone could mistake the two, no matter how closely they resembled one and other.”

Prompto remained silent, thinking about how his father had helped bring down a known criminal in Lestallum. _Why did they never tell me this?_

“It frustrated your father when he kept being approached by people thinking he was Barry,” Cor added, his gaze shifted, unfocused and distant, as if he was lost in thought. “The things Barry did…well, they were far from respectable. He was an ugly soul of a man, who hurt a lot of people, and it upset your father immensely when people looked at him as if he were that man.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Prompto muttered. That made sense, he guessed. He could understand why that would be a sore subject to talk about.

The longer Prompto thought on the matter, the more he empathized with it. His greatest fear was that people would find out he was from Niflheim, that they would look at him with hate and fear. He didn’t want them to see him as the enemy, as someone out to hurt and maim the people of Lucis. He didn’t want them to think of him as some sort of monster.

“Listen, Kid,” Cor said, his gaze returning to Prompto, “I can’t tell you everything is going to be okay, because I don’t know if it is, and I’m not going to lie to you. But, I need you to know you are not alone in this. I’m…” Cor paused and sighed. 

“You’re worried too,” Prompto said softly, “You know them pretty well, don’t you?”

Cor’s answer was no more than a breathy whisper. “Yeah… Long ago they were my best friends, my family.” 

“What happened?” Prompto asked.

A pause ensued. Cor’s expression remained passive save for a sad smile.

“I chose my duty over that life,” he answered at last. “They remained together and I faded away from that world.” There was a strange ebbing of regret in his voice, giving way to an obedient resolve, as if he had to convince himself once again that he’d made the right choice.

Prompto shifted, suddenly uncomfortable with seeing this vulnerable side to the Immortal. 

“What I need you to know,” Cor said, meeting Prompto’s gaze, “is that you aren’t alone. No matter what happens, you aren’t alone. I’ll be here.”

For a few minutes the room was still, silent.

“Did you really want to keep me…back then?” Prompto asked, his voice shaky. It felt like the wrong question to be asking at that moment, and yet, he wanted to know. His whole life he’d thought he was incredibly lucky to have found two people, his parents, who really _wanted_ him in their lives. They knew his horrible secret and yet they still loved him. It felt impossible for there to be another who cared about him as they did.

“Giving you up nearly broke me,” Cor replied, his voice filled with a serene, subdued sorrow, “but you were safer with Lillian and Ulnic, and you deserved a father _and_ a mother.”

Prompto acted then without thought, flinging himself back toward Cor, wrapping his arms around the man and hugging tight. For a second, Cor tensed and then relaxed before his arms twined around Prompto. 

“Thank you,” Prompto whispered, “Thank you…”

There was more they probably both needed to say, but the words just stopped. They simply sat there in silence, pulling away from the hug only when a knock sounded at the door.

Gladio hesitantly pushed the door open and peered in.

“I’m back.” The Shield’s gaze drifted from Cor to Prompto. “You okay, kid?”

Prompto felt his cheeks heat up as he let loose a strangled chuckle. It still felt a little odd to see the big guy so concerned about him, but it was nice.

After quieting down, feeling his grief and worry overtake him again, Prompto frowned. “No, not really, but I think I will be.”

 

****

 

Noctis had been hurrying back to Prompto’s room when he spied Gladio emerging from the training hall. Rage seeped through him as he stormed up to his Shield.

“What are you doing?! You were supposed to stay with Prompto. I told you that…”

Gladio raised a hand. “Calm down. Cor is with him. Where’s Ignis?”

_Cor was with him? Why?_

“Ignis is working on dinner,” Noct answered curtly, turning and picking up his quick pace toward Prompto’s room once again. “Why is Cor talking with Prompto? Did they find his parents?”

He could hear Gladio’s heavy footsteps behind him, following closely. He was sure the man had heard him, and yet no answer came. 

Halting and spinning around, Noct almost had Gladio crashing into him. 

“What happened to Prompto’s parents?”

Gladio took a step back and shrugged. “Cor thinks they’re lost in the Boulves Mine.”

A cursed hiss made its way from Noctis’ lips.

“They might have been down there for a couple of weeks now,” Gladio added. 

Noctis’ heart sank. They couldn’t be alive. There was no way. Prompto would be devastated. The Prince’s thoughts strayed to his own mother, long since gone from his world. The grief and loss was still there, dulled with time but still there. He hated the thought of Prompto suffering as he did.

“You shouldn’t have left him with Cor,” Noctis replied, “One of _us_ should have been there.”

A grumble of an answer came from Gladio. It was indecipherable and low, but Noctis didn’t care enough to question what the man intended. Instead he spun around and continued his trek back to his friend. 

As they neared Prompto’s room though, Gladio managed to maneuver his way in front of Noctis to block the door.

“How about you let me go in first and see how things are going?” The big man said. His voice was even, calm. 

Noct opened his mouth, a jumble of argument and frustration ready to pour out, but Gladio cut him off.

“I know you want to help, but take a minute to cool down, yeah? Prompto’s going to need us calm. He gets to be a mess and we need to be his wall, okay?”

After snapping his mouth shut, and glaring at Gladio for a few seconds, the impact of the Shield’s word fully sank in. He was right. Darn him, but he was right.

Noctis nodded, sighed and then leaned back against a wall, giving a huffed grunt as his body slammed into the surface a little harder than intended.

“Good,” Gladio added, giving Noct a soft smile. “Thank you.”

With that, the large man turned and gently knocked on the door. Hearing no answer, he proceeded to enter, shutting the door behind him. 

Noctis could hear the murmur of voices within the room, but he couldn’t make out what was being said. From the different deep tones, he knew he heard both Gladio and Cor. A softer, gentler tone signaled that Prompto was awake, but that was the most he could decipher.

He waited five minutes and then ten. Every time he felt he had his emotions under control, another swell of angry, grief or guilt would overtake him. The disappearance of Prompto’s parents had him dwelling too much on his dead mother, and then he’d slink into a spiral of guilt. This wasn’t about him and _his_ grief, this was about Prompto and how he was going to deal with this fresh loss. 

Noctis startled as the door to Prompto’s room quickly opened. 

Cor maneuvered out of the room, swiftly closing the door as he left. The man seemed lost in thought and an expression of surprise crossed his face as he looked up to see Noctis in the hallway.

“Your Highness, I was unaware you were waiting out here. I apologize if I was forcing you to wait, that wasn’t my intention at all,” Cor said. He sounded and looked absolutely beat – as if he’d just been through a marathon training exercise. 

“I was just…” Noctis paused, lost in uncertainty and shame. “…gathering my thoughts.”

Cor nodded. “That is a wise move. I had to do the same before visiting Prompto.” The Marshal’s gaze shifted away from Noctis, so that he was staring absently at the floor. “He is a good kid. I wish I had better news for him, but…” He looked up, fierce piercing gaze catching Noctis’. “There is still hope. I know Prompto’s parents, and they are survivors. They may not be the toughest or the most well equipped for this situation, but they have the luck of the Six with them, I swear.”

Noctis shifted, but kept meeting that intense gaze. “And what if they are dead?”

The Prince regretted the bluntness of the statement as soon as he noted how Cor’s expression melted into sorrow. The Immortal was quick to hide his feelings, returning to his stoic mask of neutral countenance, but it was too late. Noct had seen the man’s pain. 

_Cor really cares about Prompto’s parents…about Prompto…_

“I’m sorry…” Noct muttered, “that was…”

“A fair question,” Cor replied quickly. “They very well could be dead, and, if that is the case, then Prompto will need our support while he grieves. I cannot think of anyone better to be by his side than you, Ignis and Gladio.”

“And you,” Noctis added.

Even through his fatigue and grief, some semblance of relief flashed across Cor’s face. The man obviously wanted to be there to help Prompto, but he would have kept back if the Prince forced it. 

Cor shifted uneasily in place. “I should be going, and you should be joining Prompto. He might be a bit tired though from the stress. I apologize.” 

Noctis nodded, but said nothing more. Already his thoughts were directed back at the room. His body ready and willing to step forward, but his mind still clouded in uncertainty.

The Marshal had already started down the hall when he stopped. From over his shoulder, he said, “I heard from Gladio you were trying to find out about Prompto’s birth, about where he came from, what happened to him in his first year.”

Noct blinked. “Yeah, I am…”

“I’ve looked into the matter myself,” Cor answered softly, “there was little to find.”

“That’s what Ignis said.” Noctis had pushed his Advisor to his limits with this research, but there had been nothing of merit that came from it. Ultimately, it seemed, there was nothing to be found. Prompto’s birth was just an enigma.

“I only ask that you take care when speaking to Prompto about such matters.” Cor replied. “Whether he knows it or not, whenever he dwells on this mystery of his birth, his nightmares become worse. Ulnic and Lillian found this out over the years.”

“I understand.” It felt like a formality to say those words, even though Noctis didn’t understand – even though he wanted answers, he wanted to keep searching. He wanted to understand exactly what it was that was troubling his friend so, giving him nightmares. There had to be some piece of evidence somewhere pointing to Prompto’s origin. They didn’t even know where he was found, or who found him. That initial paperwork was somehow lost.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Cor answered and then was gone down the long hallway, leaving Noctis alone, still struggling to make himself move. Eventually, it was the sound of his friend’s strained, soft laughter from within the room that had him moving.

 

*********

 

Cor moved down the hallway in a trance. He could still feel Prompto’s warmth as he had huddled against his chest. The memory of holding the boy, of resting his chin on the boy’s head as he listened to the youth’s soft, choking sobs, hung heavily in Cor’s mind. 

He had wanted to stay, to keep offering Prompto comfort, to be the father figure that he had desired to be so long ago, but…that wasn’t his role to take. Ulnic was the boy’s father. Cor had given that up. He’d made his choice.

It’s been so long since that ugly regret had seized him, leaving him feeling wretched and lonely. He could feel the slow stir of grief and jealousy grow within him, and as always, it was followed by shame and guilt. After all, he had no right to be jealous of Ulnic over something he’d willingly given up.

Unbidden, a fresh emotion surfaced. A wave of anger swept through him, though the target of that ire was chaotic at best. 

He felt anger for Lillian and Ulnic for being so foolhardy, for leaving Prompto alone, and for being horrible with their financial planning. He was angry at them for getting themselves lost in the Boulves Mine, for making everyone worry…for maybe being dead.

Then his anger directed itself at Gladio and Ignis as well. How had they not noticed Prompto suffering sooner? How had he gone this long without anyone noticing his loneliness, his struggle?

Mostly though, Cor was furious with himself.

He’d kept close tabs on Prompto from the age of one to about eight, but then, ever so slowly, he backed away. 

Work consumed him, and it was harder to find the time to look in on the boy’s life. With the King’s health deteriorating, and the state of the Eos in general, it felt as if there were far more pressing matters to concern himself with other than how Prompto was doing in school or what his interests were.

It had been a logical choice. The King and Kingdom came first, but…

He’d saved the boy. Prompto’s life in Insomnia would have never been if not for Cor, and maybe that should have been enough, but somehow Cor felt obligated to the youth. He felt responsible for his life, for his happiness. 

Seeing him hurt, grieve, knowing how he’d suffered…it was too much.

Cor quickened his pace, as he headed for the training hall. He knew of only one thing that would help quiet the unpleasantness distressing him at the moment…a brutal training session. Good thing a group of Crownsguard recruits had one scheduled.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know it's rather sudden...but this is the last chapter of this little tale! For those of you who want more, please see the notes at the end of this chapter for a surprise! :)

Ignis carefully crafted one of Prompto’s preferred curry dishes for dinner that evening. He’d meticulously seen to it that all the ingredients were fresh and that everything was prepared to perfection. He put every ounce of culinary expertise he had into the meal. It was, if he were to say so himself, a near flawless dish.

In the end though, Prompto barely touched his dinner, but Ignis didn’t mind. 

That honest smile, the warmth and elation in those bright blue eyes was all the compensation Ignis required for his effort. 

After all, he only wanted the boy to know that he was cared for, that there were those who wanted him to flourish. If Prompto’s nerves and grief were giving him an upset stomach, well, there was no reason to heap guilt atop that. 

As they all sat around the dining room table, Prompto, however, wouldn’t let up with his apologies for not consuming more.

“What if,” Ignis said, seeing quite clearly some compromise had to be met to settle Prompto’s remorse over his lack of appetite, “I set aside a serving of this curry for your lunch tomorrow? I’m often loath to serve _leftovers_ , but this particular recipe should keep well. I dare say that it shall be just as good tomorrow as it was today.”

Again, that brilliant smile lit Prompto’s face.

“That’d be great, Iggy.”

_Iggy…_

Noctis had started calling him that long ago, when the Prince was still so very young. It was a term of endearment that Ignis would not grant to most, and yet Prompto, with his friendly, innocent nature, had wholeheartedly earned that right. When had that happened? Ignis couldn’t recall exactly.

“Very well, then that is the plan,” Ignis answered, busying himself with clearing the dishes and storing away Prompto’s leftovers. Sometimes, he found it far easier to become preoccupied with some task rather than meet that honest, gregarious stare Prompto so often fixed upon him.

As he worked, he listened to the other three converse.

For the most part, they kept the topics light. Already, the evening had been emotional, and that heavy pull of grief and worry still hung over them, no matter how playful the banter might have sounded.

Noctis and Prompto were just starting to move toward the living room, ready to play some more video games, when Ignis’ phone rang.

Ignis glanced casually at the number, but the screen simply read ‘ _unknown caller._ ’

_A telemarketer, perhaps?_   


Never one to ignore a call, Ignis sighed before dutifully answering.

“This is Ignis Scientia, to whom am I speaking?”

“Mr. Scientia?” The voice was feminine and shaky. “Cor Leonis gave me your number. He said you’d be with Prompto. May I speak with him, please?”

Ignis had an inkling of who this mystery woman was, but he dared not jump to any conclusions.

“I have no qualms with handing my phone over,” Ignis answered, “but I’d like to verify whom this is making such a request.”

He was aware then of how the other three in the room had frozen, how all eyes were now fixed on him. Looking to Prompto, Ignis felt a pull of concern as it appeared the youth had suddenly forgotten how to breathe. Eye wide, face pale, stance stiff, the blond looked as if he was sculpted from wax.

“Lillian,” she answered, “Lillian Argentum. Ulnic and I just made it out of the Boulves Mine with the help from a party of Glaives Cor Leonis sent. As soon as we could get cellphone service, I tried calling Prompto, but I kept being sent directly to voicemail.”

Ignis could feel tension he hadn’t known had built within him suddenly fade. Smiling, he slowly made his way toward Prompto. “Yes, his phone was damaged when he took a spill on his bike, but he will be just fine. Perhaps though, you’d rather hear this all from your son. Here he is…”

He held the phone out, and though Prompto was quick to take it, he was slower to put the device to his ear.

Prompto’s voice was hesitant, soft. “Hello?”

Ignis could barely hear the faint murmur of Lillian’s voice on the phone, but he didn’t need to hear her words to understand the beaming smile and joyous tears streaking down Prompto’s face. 

“Mom! You’re okay! And Dad?....How?” Prompto paused, his face strained in happy concentration. “What? Gross! Really?” Another paused, a few soft hums of answers coming from the boy. “No, I’ll be okay. I broke my arm and my leg and got a little scratched up.”

There was no mistaking the motherly barrage of worry and love that flooded from the phone then. 

“No, mom,” Prompto answered, “I swear, I’ll be okay…yeah, Ignis has been taking care of me. I’m taking potion dosages and the doctor said I’ll be as good as new in a week or so. Yeah, yeah…I promise. When will you be back? I miss you.”

For a while, Prompto merely listened, holding his smile in place as he stared absentmindedly at his feet. 

“Okay. I’ll see you then. I love you. Tell dad I love him too. Here’s Ignis…” he said, suddenly thrusting the phone back at the Advisor. “She wants to talk to you.”

Strangely enough, Ignis actually felt nervous taking the phone back. He did not often have to deal with mothers. Somehow, they seemed far more intimidating than any Council or King ever would.

“Mrs. Argentum,” he said, “Prompto has been incredible easy to see to, far more agreeable than Prince Noctis.”

The chipper flutter of laughter that sounded from the line quickly eased Ignis’ nerves.

Gladio quietly ushered the boys out of the room. Prompto was rambling, speaking so quickly he stumbled over his own words. His hands darting around as he gestured wildly, telling the story his mother had relayed to him. 

Noct was all smiles, nodding and listening contently. The Prince cast one last happy glance back at Ignis before the three disappeared from the room.

“He has _always_ been such a good boy,” Mrs. Argentum answered, “and I thank you with every fiber of my being for looking after him. He is the dearest thing in the world to me and Ulnic, though it might seem hard to believe, as we, idiotically, leave him alone when we should be enjoying the last of his youth with him – before he grows up to become a famous photographer and is far too busy for his old, sappy parents.”

Another peal of laughter sounded from Lillian, but there a hint of strain to it this time.

“Prompto mentioned that you and Ulnic both do a lot of humanitarian work. He said there are many communities that might perish if not for your efforts. He is quite proud of the both of you.”

“Y-yeah? I um…” Her voice broke a little. Her breath was choppy, as if she was silently sobbing. “That’s nice to know, but I still wish we had been better parents to him – that we hadn’t traveled so much. Even now though, looking through my e-mails, I have pleas from people all over Lucis begging for my help, and Ulnic has the same. Whatever I do, I feel that I will disappoint or hurt someone. Whatever choice I make, someone will suffer. Do I help the people and leave my son alone, or do I stay in Insomnia and ignore the pleas?”

“What if…” Ignis replied, “…you weren’t leaving Prompto _alone_? As I stated, he is easier to care for than the Prince, and it would be putting me out very little to watch over him while you are away. In fact, he helps more than he hinders my duties, as Prince Noctis is far more agreeable when Prompto is present. Additionally, I believe Gladio Amicitia and Cor Leonis would be willing to help look after the boy as well.”

Her response was quick. “I could never ask such a thing of you, that’s just too…”

“That is just the thing though,” Ignis interrupted, “I’ve already made the offer, so you needn’t ask. It is simply there for you to accept. We can go over the details of this arrange after you’ve returned to Insomnia. I trust that Cor has already set up your travel arrangements?”

“Y-yes,” Lillian answered softly, “We will stay at a Haven for a few days while we gather our strength, and then we will head back. I believe we should be home in perhaps three days.” She drew in a sharp breath, “I just can’t thank you enough for…”

“Nonsense, I’ll hear no more of that,” Ignis answered, “As I’ve already stated, Prompto is as good for us as we are for him. I only regret that I hadn’t learned of his predicament earlier, so that his accident could have been avoided.”

“You are a good man, Mr. Scientia.”

“Please,” he mused, “Don’t go spreading that around. I have an image to keep up, after all.”

She laughed. “Well, I guess that was all I had to say, so, I’ll see you in three days?”

“Yes, I’ll be sure to put you on my schedule,” he replied, “Until then, please try to get some rest. Prompto, I can assure you, will be well taken care of while you are away.”

“I am sure he will be,” she answered. “Goodbye, Mr. Scientia.”

“Goodbye, Mrs. Argentum.”

He hung up, feeling both relieved and stunned by the sudden silence of the room. Greedily, he took a few minutes for himself, simply breathing, letting himself have a brief respite before launching back into his schedule of care for Prompto and Noctis. 

Eventually, he retrieved the case of Prompto’s potion dosages from the counter and started making his way to living room. He could hear the exuberant blond incessantly rambling long before he’d neared the room.

“Ignis!” Prompto shouted the minute he spied the man. “Guess what? Did they tell you?”

“It is hard to know,” Ignis smirked, “When you do not make accurate, precise statements. What exactly is ‘ _it_ ’ that ‘ _they_ ’ might have told me.”

From his position on the recliner, Gladio flipped a page in his book, not even bothering to look up. “Get ready, Iggy, for a whole lot of talking coming at ya.” 

Right beside Prompto, on the couch, Noctis groaned and set his controller down. “We’re _never_ going to get through this level.”

“Mom and dad are going to be back in, like, three days!” Prompto was nearly exploding with joy as he teetered on the edge of the couch.

“Yes, Mrs. Argentum did relay that information to me,” Ignis replied. “Please, sit back, Prompto, or you’re liable to injure yourself all over again.”

Prompto flopped back. “They survived by eating bugs. BUGS, Ignis. How gross is that? And mom made a weapon out of her pantyhose. She filled them with rocks and swung them around. She killed imps with her pantyhose…HER PANTYHOSE!” 

Ignis quirked a brow at Gladio. “Has he been this worked up since he got off the phone?”

Gladio looked up, glanced at the kid and shrugged. “Actually, I think he’s calmed down a bit.”

“And dad, he found an old mining shovel to fend off daemons with…it’s not quite as awesome as mom’s pantyhose weapon, but it’s still pretty cool…and then…” 

Ignis nodded politely, taking in every detail the boy prattled on about. Although he was terribly unsure how Mrs. Argentum had informed Prompto of so much during their short chat. It seemed a bit implausible, but if she talked nearly as fast as Prompto did, well then…

“Ignis? Iggy? Were you listening?” 

Ignis blinked, his gaze shifting back to Prompto. “My apologies, I’m afraid I was lost in thought for just a moment. What was that last comment you made?”

Suddenly, Prompto looked a bit shy, as if was uncertain of repeating himself.

“The kid’s appetite came back,” Gladio answered. “He was asking if it was alright if could have that curry now.”

Ignis smiled. “Of course, come back to the kitchen and I’ll reheat it.”

Noctis groaned. “After _that_ can we play some video games?”

Ignis’ first reaction was to say no. It was getting later in the day and Prompto needed his rest, but…

“One hour, that’s all, then Prompto must take his potion dose, and then it will be bedtime.”

Noctis opened his mouth, but Ignis was ready.

“No arguments, no negotiations. I assure you, any further demands for the night will strip you off all the privileges I’ve granted you thus far.” 

Wisely, Noctis snapped his mouth closed and sunk further into the couch.

“I’ll be waiting for you here, Prom,” the Prince replied. “I might play single player for a bit to level up, okay?”

“Sure, whatever, dude, that’s cool,” Prompto answered as he started _skipping_ toward the kitchen.

“Prompto,” Ignis hissed, “Your leg…please, don’t put so much pressure on it.” 

_Oh Six help me, it’s like the boy is trying to injure himself now._

Prompto halted suddenly, sheepishly glancing up at Ignis. “Sorry. I forgot.”

“Apology accepted, just try to be more careful.”

A soft hum came from Prompto as he limped into the kitchen and found a seat at the table. Ignis, for his part, quickly set about reheating the meal. He felt a bit relieved that the blond was able to eat something. After all, it would do him much better for his healing process if he ate regular meals.

“I spoke with your mother about how your parents are both called away rather frequently.” Ignis said as he stirred the curry. 

“ _Oh,_ ” There was something that sounded startled and heartbroken in that single word Prompto uttered.

“I suggested that they stop leaving you by yourself,” Ignis added, “that…”

“But they have so much they have to do,” Prompto’s voice was raised, his face flushed, “and I don’t mind. It really doesn’t usually get that bad. This last time was just a bit of bad luck, and…”

“Prompto,” Ignis used his best authoritative tone, quieting the boy instantly. “I think you misunderstand my intent. I do not wish for them to stop with their work. I only asked that they leave you in the care or myself, Gladio or Cor Leonis. We have spare rooms here in the Citadel, and you would be more than welcome to stay and…”

Ignis was cut short, gasping with surprise at the warm tackle that came at him. He was barely able to stay on his feet and keep the curry from toppling over. Looking down, he found Prompto squeezing him in a tight embrace. Slowly, the boy looked up, blue eyes brimming with tears, a lopsided, happy smile adorning his face.

“Thank you, Iggy,” Prompto whispered, “Thank you…”

Ignis stood for a moment, debating on whether he should pry the child off his midsection or return the gesture. Finally, his better nature kicked in, and he wrapped his arms around Prompto.

“You are quite welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you to all you dear readers who've followed this twisty, turning little tale. It was tons of fun to write and I loved being able to share it. 
> 
> For those of you sad that this has come to an end...well, I'm posting the first chapter to the next story (Title: Mistakes Were Made) in this series as soon as I get this chapter up. Also, I'm planning a collection of one-shots for this series tackling a few elements I'd like to explore, but I just don't have the time to write full length pieces about. I hope that eases any sadness! :)


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